This is My Father
by fernn
Summary: After a stressful year at U Chicago, Bella looks forward to taking a break from it all by spending a carefree summer with her boyfriend. But all thoughts of relaxation are thrown out the window when she is introduced to her boyfriend's father, Edward.
1. Chapter 1

_Thanks to dreamergirl87 and Batgirl8968 for beta-ing this chapter!_

_I just have a few things to make clear before you start reading. First off, this __is__a Bella/Edward fic, I promise. Have faith in my listed pairing. Secondly, I do not own Twilight. Lastly, this story is rated M for a reason, ye be warned._

.:.

Chapter One

I had once told my father that I wanted to marry him. It was one of those innocent childhood memories that you can't help but get slightly embarrassed about when they come to mind.

The fact that my father still teased me about it added to my embarrassment.

I couldn't have been older than five or six, and I was curious about everything going on around me; including marriage.

"_What's merge?" I asked my mom, as she was washing the dishes._

_"Merge?" she repeated, obviously confused._

_"Uh-huh," I said, nodding. "Last night, I heard you tell Daddy that it took two to make merge work."_

_"_Marriage_," she corrected, smiling tightly. "Do you remember me telling you about how Daddy and I are married?"_

_I nodded, waiting for her to go on._

_"Well, we are _in _a marriage," she told me, looking at me to see if I understood._

_I just nodded again, comprehending the concept for the most part. But I wasn't completely satisfied just yet. "Will I ever be in a marriage?"_

_"One day," my mom told me, smiling again. "You will find a young man who loves you very much, and who you love back, and he will ask you to marry him."_

_"I love Daddy. Can I marry him?" I asked._

_"He's already married to me, sweetie," she said, laughing._

_"Why can't I marry him too?" I asked, a little hurt._

_"You can't marry your daddy, because that's the mommy's job. When you grow up, you will marry somebody who loves you like Daddy loves me."_

_Now, I was really upset. "Daddy will want to marry me! You'll see!"_

_I didn't let her get a word in before I ran up to my room, just waiting for my dad to come home. And the second he did, I ran downstairs and popped the question._

_"Daddy!" I yelled, jumping into his arms. He picked me up easily and spun me around a few times. "Will you marry me?"_

_"I'd love to!" he bellowed, grinning wide. "Oh, darn it."_

_"What?" I asked, my face falling._

_"I just remembered, I married your mom," he explained._

_"Can't you marry me, too?" I asked, feeling betrayed all over again._

_"Afraid I can't," he said, shaking his head, "but can I tell you a secret?"_

_I nodded, my eyes filling with tears._

_"Being my daughter," he said, looking into my sad, brown eyes, "is much more special than being my wife."_

_He then kissed the tip of my nose, the tickle of his mustache making me giggle._

I sighed, longing for the simplicity of my early childhood. It was taken from me much too early for my liking. It was pointless to dwell on that unchangeable fact, though. That much I knew.

It wasn't like I had such a horrible, stressful life now. Really, all I had to worry about was editing the paper I had written for my psychology class and making sure the dinner I had planned for my wonderful boyfriend turned out okay.

To me, Anthony was my little piece of childhood. He kept things simple and light, and that was more than I could ever hope for. He viewed the word in a way only he could, with a silver lining around _everything._ It was a mystery to me how he kept a positive outlook on life, but I was thankful, nonetheless.

The timer dinged, signaling my need to get the roast the fuck out of the oven before it was too late. Burning food was my specialty. Whenever I did end up burning my meal, and it happened frequently, Anthony would joke about liking his food extra crispy, and how my blackened meals reminded him of making s'mores as a kid.

Like I said, unrealistically positive, but in a truly endearing way.

I shoved my hands into a pair of thick, quilted mitts, and opened the oven door. A blast of fragrant hot air hit me in the face, making my eyes squint. I reached into the heat and quickly grabbed the roast beef, unscathed, I might add.

Because burning myself was one of my specialties, as well.

I placed the scalding dish on my ratty counter and turned to check on the potatoes and carrots. And good lord, I hadn't even begun to bake the Yorkshire pudding yet. That was the dish I was most worried about.

Growing up, Anthony was raised by his British nanny, Miss Bev, who made him and his father a Sunday roast every Sunday. He had mentioned it before, and I thought it would give him a little taste of home. I knew it wouldn't taste nearly as good as his nanny's, but it was worth a shot.

I made sure to make everything from scratch, too. I, for one, lived off of instant foods and dry mixes, but I knew his nanny had made everything from scratch. And there was no way my instant mixes could compete with that.

I checked the clock to see that I only had about fifteen minutes until Anthony would arrive. Fifteen minutes exactly. Anthony was nothing if not ridiculously punctual. He was never late and only early if he deemed it necessary.

He was pretty much perfect.

I had all but given up on trying finding anything wrong with him. It was impossible. Not that there was anything wrong with his lack of flaws, but it did make me feel just a little bit... unworthy of him. I mean, I was an impatient, occasionally potty-mouthed, perpetually late, unorganized mess. And here I was with the most perfect man in the world. No exaggeration. What could I have possibly done to deserve him?

I quickly prepared the potatoes and popped the Yorkshire pudding batter in the oven, cranking up the heat just a little on the oven, so they'd be done sooner. I was tempted to cheat and microwave the roast beef drippings, but I decided to simmer them in the skillet, just in case it was an important step.

I began to carve the roast beef and mash the potatoes as the Yorkshire puddings baked. I was surprisingly efficient in the task, working more quickly and accurately than I usually would. It turned into a mindless task, keeping my hands occupied, but leaving my mind to wander. I made sure to check the clock every once in a while, so I wouldn't get too lost in my thoughts and end up burning the puddings. As far as this meal went, things were going fantastic for me, and I didn't want to mess that up by losing track of time.

Just as I had taken the Yorkshire pudding out of the oven, I heard a firm knock at my door. I noticed the perfectly browned bread deflate just a little, and silently thanked the heavens that they turned out hollow.

I yelled for Anthony to come in, and told him to make himself comfortable on the couch while I finished preparing the meal. He offered to help, of course, but I told him not to worry about it.

"Please?" he asked, sneaking up behind me, wrapping his muscular arms around my waist. "I used to help Miss Bev all the time."

"Fine," I said, trying to sound exasperated. He gracefully grabbed the roast beef and mashed potatoes and made his way to the table, which was off in the far left corner of my living room, right outside my kitchen. I had always loved that I had that little alcove to turn into a small dining room. I had debated using it as a workspace, setting up my desk and laptop and printer, but it just felt more like a dining room. I grabbed the carrots and plate of little Yorkshire puddings and followed Anthony. Once we had successfully transported everything else, I took the seat across from him and admired my meal. It was by far the best one I had ever made. Anthony didn't know it, but I had also made mini custard tarts for dessert. I knew his nanny had made those for him as a boy, too.

"Have you finished your Psychology paper yet?" he asked me, sipping the wine he had brought over.

"Yeah, finally," I told him. "Just finished last night."

"Would you like me to look over it?" he asked, smiling. Before we started dating, I had often asked him to look over my papers. He did wonders with them. After working his magic with three of my papers, and helping me with my classes countless times, I asked him how I could ever repay him. He told me he would happily edit a thousand more papers if I went out with him. I wondered how that would at all equate to what he was doing for me, but I happily accepted anyway, not wanting to talk him out of it. We've been dating ever since.

"I'd be eternally grateful," I said honestly.

"You could easily make it up to me," he said with a sly grin.

"Oh yeah?" I asked, raising my eyebrows. I loved when flirty Anthony came out to play. "And how could I do that?"

"Come home with me this break," he told me, still smiling.

It wasn't the exact answer I was expecting, but it excited me nonetheless. "I'd love to."

"Really?" he asked excitedly.

"Really," I answered, his enthusiasm spreading to me. "I don't really like Arizona in the summer time anyway."

"You don't have to spend the whole summer with me," he told me. "I'd love to keep you all to myself for three months, but I think I'd better share you with your parents. I _do_ want to get on their good side."

"I don't think it's possible for you to get on anyone's bad side, Anthony," I told him, scoffing a little. Everyone loved him.

"Still, I'd like to be on the safe side when it comes to my girlfriend's gun-wielding father," he told me, looking at me with his deep blue eyes framed in black-rimmed glasses. I usually didn't go for guys with glasses, but he pulled them off exceptionally well. He looked like a model with his strong jaw and tall stature. He had long lashes and pouty lips, but it really worked on him.

"You're right," I told him. "Charlie does have quite the trigger finger."

The color drained from his face and his smile fell. It was quite humorous.

"I'm kidding," I told him, smirking. "Mostly."

"Anyway," he said, his face gaining color again. "I've already asked my father about it, and he said you could stay as long as you like. Bev is dying to meet you, too."

"I can't wait," I told him honestly. "I've always wanted to go to Washington."

"You were born there, right?" he asked, remembering the small detail of my life I had shared with him months ago.

"Yeah, in Forks," I said.

"I think I've driven through there once or twice. Not much goes on there, does it?"

"I'd assume not," I said. "But I don't really remember the place. My dad loved it there, but my mom hated it. I asked my dad once if he wished he hadn't moved, but he told me that it saved his marriage, so he could never regret it."

"That's sweet," Anthony noted a faraway look in his eyes. "I'd move anywhere in the world for you, Bella."

My eyes widened and I stopped chewing my food. He looked completely serious and absolutely passionate. The love in his eyes was unmistakable.

"I mean it," he said softly. "You mean everything to me."

I swallowed my half-chewed food. I opened my mouth to speak, but I didn't know how to respond.

"I... I didn't mean to sound so forward. Or clingy," he cringed, his eyes leaving my face and focusing solely on the food in front of him.

"I'm sorry," I said, realizing my lack of response probably led him to assume the worst. "You had me at a loss for words. You know I'm not nearly as well-spoken or... wordy as you. Obviously. But I'd do the same for you, you know."

"You don't have to say that," he told me, his smile soft and lazy. "I didn't say it so you would tell me back; I just wanted you to know."

"And I want _you_ to know," I said, smirking, _"where you lead, I will follow. Anywhere that you tell me to. If you need! You need me to be with you!"_ I continued to sing the theme song to _Gilmore Girls_ loudly, ignoring the fact that singing was definitely not one of my talents.

"Thank you," he said, chuckling and rolling his eyes a little. "Have I ever told you that you should try out for _American Idol_?"

"Oh, shut up!" I yelled, not the least bit embarrassed.

"I'm serious!" he said laughingly. "I don't even think Simon would have anything negative to say about your singing!"

I scoffed. "Shows how much you know. Simon isn't even there anymore."

"_American Idol_ without Simon? That's basically an oxymoron."

"Tell me about it."

We continued our lighthearted conversation throughout dinner, smiling and laughing in between bites of my freaking amazing food. Seriously, who knew I could cook like this? When we were both finished, I collected our plates, having to demand Anthony to stay seated and let me clean up on my own. He actually let me without much of an argument, and after I put up the dishes, I got the custard tarts out of the refrigerator. I heated them up quickly in the microwave, and put them on a nice plate. I poured a couple of glasses of milk, and brought it out to Anthony.

"Are those custard tarts?" he asked, grinning widely.

I nodded, setting the plate in front of him. I was seriously starting to feel like a housewife. All I was missing was the heels, pearls, and frilly apron.

"You're amazing," he said right before delving into one. He moaned appreciatively.

"I try," I said, shrugging my shoulders. He moaned again, and I was a little too happy about it. I tried to smother my dirty thoughts down, for the time being at least, and enjoy my warm tart.

After our dessert, he helped me do the dishes, since the dishwasher in my apartment served no purpose other than decoration. It merely fooled people into thinking that I didn't have to do my own dishes.

We spent the rest of our evening joking around and watching Zombieland. I laughed every time he cringed or jumped. Zombies got the best of him. Watching I Am Legend with him was probably one of my favorite memories.

By the end of the movie, I had my head resting on his well-muscled chest and my arm slung around his waist. His arms wrapped around me, holding me close.

"I don't think I can sleep alone tonight," he whispered in my ear.

"Stay here," I said, snuggling into his chest. "I'll protect you."

"Actually," he said, his voice even lower, "I don't even think I can sleep tonight, I'm so terrified. You're going to have to find a way to keep me awake."

"I might have an idea or two," I said, leaning up.

That night, I found out that Anthony had an idea or two of his own. And neither of us got any sleep until the break of dawn.

-:-

"Good afternoon," Anthony's gruff voice said, waking me up from my deep slumber.

"Afternoon?" I questioned.

"It's half past noon."

"Ugh," I groaned. "I haven't done that since I was a teenager."

Anthony barked out a laugh. "You make yourself sound so old."

"I am old!" I argued, turning my face into his well-defined chest.

"Oh yeah," he agreed, running his fingers through my hair. "I think I see a few grays."

"'Cause I'm old," I reasoned. "I'm basically a cougar."

Age was a common ground for banter between us. Even though we were both freshmen, I was two years older than Anthony. Not only had I taken a year off school between high school and college to travel Europe, but I also had an early birthday, by the school district's standards, at least. Anthony, on the other hand, had an extremely late birthday. If he had been born just a few days later, he would have started school a year later. So, while he was still eighteen, and would remain that age until August, I was twenty, and would turn twenty-one come September. Honestly, I'd always thought I would end up with an older guy, since guys my age never held my interest. Who knew it was because I was into robbing the cradle?

I knew the age gap wasn't _that_ wide, but it was still odd for me.

"I'm so excited about you coming home with me," he said, his arm wrapped securely around me.

"Me too," I said. "Maybe we can even visit Forks?"

"That sounds like a great idea. We can maybe try to find the house you first lived in."

"Really?" I asked. "I'd have to ask my dad what the address is. I've never really thought about it before, but I'm excited to see where my parents grew up. Where they met, went to school, hung out."

"Conceived you," Anthony added to my list, just like a guy.

"Ew," I laughed. "I definitely _don't _want to think about my conception, but thanks for that."

Anthony and I washed up together, taking our time to get each other _really_ clean. But, unfortunately, he had to go into work at three. I promised to visit him later, truly glad that he worked at Barnes and Nobles rather than some club or bar, like most college students tried to work at. Plus, his ass looked damn fine in the khakis he wore.

I took the few hours I had to myself cleaning up my apartment a bit. It wasn't dirty, but it was getting a little cluttered-looking. Cleaning my apartment not only gave me something to do, but I always felt better when it was clean. After an hour or two of tidying up, I decided to give my Psychology paper a once over. I knew it was kind of pointless since Anthony would be looking it over soon, but I didn't want it to be overflowing with grammatical errors and mistakes when he got to it. Sometimes the amount of red pen on my once strictly black and white papers is just embarrassing. It made my papers look like they were brutally stabbed to death with that red pen of his. I've wanted to suggest that he just fix the errors on my original document, so I could print that one instead of writing one up, printing it, having Anthony edit it, go back and fix my mistakes, and then print it again. But I figured that would make me seem lazy, so I just put up with the extra work.

The free time I had left me to think about the upcoming month. It was already May and my first year of college had flown by. I couldn't believe it would be over in a month. And then I'd be going home with Anthony. I was a little nervous about the fact, but I knew I would have an amazing time. I loved spending time with him. I was a little nervous about meeting his dad, though. Even though he wasn't around much during Anthony's childhood, Anthony spoke very highly of him, and I wanted to make a good impression, which wasn't exactly something I was good at in general. Upon meeting people for the first time, I typically ended up embarrassing myself due to my cyclical cause and effect combination of anxiety and social awkwardness.

But I had a month until I had to worry about that.

The sharp sound of my phone ringing snapped me out of my small reverie.

"Hello?" I answered, not bothering to look at the screen.

"Bella!" the somewhat annoying sound of my high school friend Jessica's voice rang out. "What are you doing right now?"

"Nothing in particular, Jess," I said. "How come?"

"I'm bored and I miss your face," she said, causing me to chuckle. The girl got on my nerves occasionally; her ADHD and incessant gossip tended to get the best of me, but I still loved her. God knows why.

"How sweet," I deadpanned. "Let me guess, you want me and my face to come over and relieve you of your boredom?"

"Ding, ding, ding!" she exclaimed.

"I've got nothing better to do," I said with a smirk, although I highly doubted she could see it. "So I guess I could swing by."

"Hurry!" she said before I hung up. "I might go into a boredom induced coma. I'm studying physics, for Christ's sake!"

Jessica Stanley had been my best friend for my first two years of high school. She moved away right before our junior year, and we had lost contact by the time we became seniors. I ran into her on orientation day at the University of Chicago, and all my nerves just melted. Seeing a familiar face seemed to cause the both of us to cling together for the rest of the day. We were even placed in the same dorm, only a hall away from each other. Her roommate, Siobhan, even turned out to be my roommate's cousin.

I grabbed my keys and cell phone and made my way to my black, nineteen ninety-eight Jeep Cherokee. It wasn't the hottest car in the lot, nor was it particularly the most reliable, but it was mine and I loved it. And I took amazing care of it. With the right repairs, a new paint job, and meticulous care, you could hardly tell it was over ten years old.

Regardless of my efforts, though, it still guzzled gas like a bitch.

I drove to Jessica's dorm, which was only about five minutes away from my apartment, and parked my car out front.

I flashed my student ID card to the volunteer dorm security staff and made my way to room 316. I didn't even bother knocking on the door, it was fruitless. Jess would just yell for me to come in anyway.

I opened the door as if it were my own apartment, and plopped down on the bed, above where Jessica was painting her nails.

"Ol' Beller," Jessica said without looking up. She loved giving odd nicknames to everyone she met. I honestly didn't think she was always aware of herself doing it. "Why did we stop hanging out in high school?"

"You moved to Texas, doof," I answered.

"I didn't mean to," she said, her high pitched, almost child-like voice growing slightly softer. "We could have made it work."

"We're here now, aren't we?" I asked rhetorically. "No point in dwelling on the past."

Jessica had always been a bit dramatic, which was fitting, seeing as how she was a Theater major.

We chatted mindlessly for a few minutes before she proclaimed she was bored again.

"Let's go dancing!" she half-yelled excitedly. "No, no, let's go to a little concert. It's Chicago, there's always a concert playing. Let's go walk some dogs! Remember when we did that for our community service project?"

"Let's dance with some sheltered dogs at a concert," I grumbled, none of her ideas appealing to me. I just hoped she didn't take me seriously.

"I need something sweet," Jessica said suddenly. "Let's go to Alessandro's and get some coffee and tiramisu!"

Alessandro's was an Italian bakery not too far off from campus. It was shabby on the outside, so not many people knew about its delicious wonders inside. "That sounds great."

We took her car, much newer and nicer than mine, to the bakery, and the whole way there, images of sweet Italian desserts danced through my head.

We parked in front of the old, dilapidated building and scurried inside. The wind was picking up, and Jessica loathed wind more than anything in the world.

I ordered a tiramisu, and Jessica ended up getting a cannoli. We sat down with our desserts and coffees.

"So how's it going with you and Mr. Anthony?" Jessica asked, in between small bites of her dessert.

"Okay, I guess," I said, my mouth full of delicious mascarpone.

"You sound so enthusiastic about him," she noted sarcastically.

"I'm sure it's just stress or whatever," I said, waving the topic off. "What about you and Mike? How's that going?"

"Well, he's kind of an asshole," she stated. "But that's usually the type of guy I fall for, so no surprise."

We caught up, even though we had seen each other only days ago, and left with full bellies.

She drove back to her dorm and invited me inside, but I told her about meeting Anthony at work in only a matter of minutes. I left in my car, but headed home rather than Barnes and Nobles.

I felt like freshening up a bit before going to see Anthony. I curled my hair to give it a little more body and even put a little makeup on. Throughout high school, this was something I did at least twice a day, always coating my face with makeup and making sure my hair was perfect. Then, after roughing it for a year in Europe, things like that didn't seem as important. My looks became the least of my worries, and in the end, it made me a lot happier. Obsessing over my looks every five minutes actually _wasn't_ the best way to live my life. Shocking, I know.

I drove leisurely to the bookstore, cranking up the radio and singing along. I usually liked to speed, no matter how much of a hurry I was in, but I decided to chill out and actually go the speed limit for once.

I parked in my usual spot and got out, double clicking the lock button until I heard the satisfying _honk_. I couldn't walk away from my car until I heard the honk. It made me paranoid.

I was just a little OCD. Nothing I couldn't handle.

Taking my time, I strolled into the store, making my way to the little island Anthony was usually stationed at. His back was to me and I could see that he was talking to a customer. Peeking around him, I could see that it was a young blonde girl, shamelessly flirting with him. She was cute, but she couldn't have been older than a junior in high school. Smirking, I tried to see Anthony's face without making myself known. It was quite entertaining.

He was smiling politely from what I could see, but I also knew him well enough to see the frustration in his face. Not two seconds later, I saw his lips purse and his nostrils flare as he breathed deeply through his nose. I debated speaking up and kindly letting the girl know she didn't really have a fighting chance, but frustrated Anthony was such a rare sight. I didn't think I could pass it up.

From what I could hear, she was making conversation with him about some teen book she was reading. She then started questioning him about the Nook, and I began to grow bored.

I walked into Anthony's line of sight and smirked at the relief I saw wash over him. He smiled brightly, ignoring the girl completely now. She huffed a little, but stayed in place.

"Almost ready, darling?" I asked sweetly, making my claim on him know. So I was a little territorial. Sue me.

"Just about, baby," he told me, turning back to the now frowning girl. "Was that all?"

She mumbled out a yes and walked off.

Bella: 1; High School Girl: 0.

I was aware at how petty I was.

We made our way to the Starbucks that was located inside the store, and had a couple of coffees. It was kind of our ritual.

We discussed our days, and he asked if he could come by and look over my paper tonight.

This man liked to work for eight hours and then edit his grammatically-challenged girlfriend's paper right after. I personally didn't understand it, but to each his own.

"I talked to my dad a bit today when things were slow," he told me, munching on his sugar cookie. "He wanted to know if you needed anything for next month."

"Like what?" I asked.

"A U-Haul, or a plane ticket, or anything that will ensure that things go smoothly."

"That's considerate," I said, nodding. "But I think I'll be able to fit everything in my Jeep okay. And I don't mind the drive."

"I figured as much, but my dad was insistent on me asking you."

It was obvious that Anthony's father used his money to make up for his lack of presence in his childhood. This wasn't the first time that he used his money to make sure Anthony had everything his heart desired, including a beautiful townhouse a few miles off campus and a new car. Why Anthony even worked was beyond me. I get that he wanted to feel like he was somewhat fending for himself now that he was on his own, but he was a college student. Free time wasn't something he had a lot of, but the little time he did get, he worked. Even though he had plenty of time to work _after_ college. But, whatever.

Anthony and I ended up leaving together, since his boss let him leave early. The place was dead.

He followed me to my apartment in his car, insistent on looking over my paper. When alone in my car, I groaned out loud. I felt like he was doing so much more for this relationship than I was. I couldn't think of the last time I had done anything for Anthony, other than cook mediocre meals in which his consumption of them was more of a favor to me than me cooking them in the first place.

Although I will admit, my last meal was pretty kick ass.

Either way, Anthony lavished me with gifts and praises I was completely unworthy of. And I did nothing in return. He deserved someone so much better. Someone who was at least remotely worthy of him, and yet, I was too selfish to let him go.

-:-

I was hot.

Burning up, really.

Anthony and I were in his bed, the duvet wrapped around us. It was the end of May, and the nearly summer sun beat down on us through the window. I grumpily kicked the offensive covers off the bed, swiping Anthony a few times as well. He slept through it.

I untangled myself from his grasp, rolling over to the far side of his huge bed. I was _not_ a cuddler. I needed my personal space. This, however, woke him up. Kicking him did nothing, but escaping his tight hold jostled him half awake. Somewhere along the lines of our relationship, I had become his personal body pillow. He slung his arm out and tried to pull me back in, but I wouldn't budge. Instead, I groaned and got up from the bed altogether and made my way to the bathroom.

Thoughts flooded through my mind as I stood under the hot spray. I had made sure to lock the door, keeping in mind Anthony's penchant for joining me in my showers. Upon turning in his two week notice at the book store, which turned out to be more of a one week notice, he had started to spend all his free time with me.

Not that there was anything wrong with that...

But I already felt somewhat smothered, and this was with a full schedule of classes and us living separately. Well, we mostly lived separately. We still had two separate places, even though we were usually together at just one of them. Typically, his place.

My point being, if I was feeling this overwhelmed with his presence _now_, how would I feel this summer, when we were living in the same house with no obligations or time requirements all day, every day?

I wrote my feelings off as nerves and stress. End of term was proving to be a huge bitch, and I was taking everything out on my poor boyfriend. And yes, I was still nervous about going home with him in just a matter of days. It was silly since we practically lived together now, but I was still anxious for whatever reason.

The water began to cool down and I hurriedly finished washing up, finishing just before the water went completely cold.

Sorry, Anthony, no hot water.

I wasn't too worried about it, though. He was still asleep when I entered his room, and I figured by the time he finished eating breakfast, the water would be warm again.

I dressed in one of his tee shirts and a pair of boy shorts, because all I kept here were panties.

Anthony wandered downstairs by the time I had finished making the French toast. I made his plate and poured a cup of coffee, handing it to him as he came up behind me. He set the dishes on the counter and smiled sleepily at me. He bent down to give me a sweet, chaste kiss. I grinned at him; Anthony was adorable in the mornings. His usually neat golden locks were in disarray and his blue eyes were sleepy.

"Ten more days," Anthony told me, sipping his coffee.

Ten more days.


	2. Chapter 2

_Thanks so much to 2Shaes and PerAmore91 for polishing this chapter up!_

.:.

Chapter Two

"I can't believe you guys are leaving!" Lauren half-yelled, half-whined for the tenth time. "We'll be, like, the only ones here soon!"

I glanced over at her roommate, Angela, who just looked passive. She certainly wasn't one to wear her heart on her sleeve, or any emotion for that matter, but you'd think she'd be a little sad, or glad, that everyone was leaving. But no. Not a single reaction. It was well enough, since Lauren definitely shared enough feelings for the both of them. I figured that's why they worked so well as roommates. Opposites attract and whatnot.

"It's going to be a little weird, just the two of us, but I'm looking forward to it," Anthony said, throwing his arm around me. I stiffened, the heat of his arm radiating through my clothes. The gesture wouldn't bother me if I wasn't uncomfortably overheated as it was. I didn't want to offend him, though, so I put up with his hot skin.

"Your dad is going to be there, right?" Lauren asked, leaning closer. Her cleavage was now on full display, just one wrong move away from a nip slip. Or _right_ move, in Lauren's book. She was the wardrobe malfunction queen, after all. I turned to face Anthony, carefully eyeing him to see if he would check out Lauren's impressive set of sweater puppies. I wasn't taking advantage of the view myself, but I'd seen them enough to know she was quite a bit larger than me in that department, and I desperately, pathetically even, wanted to catch Anthony's eyes wander.

It was a game I had come up with somewhere along the lines of our relationship. Anthony was pretty much perfect, and I'd turned trying to catch him slip up, in any way shape or form, into a way to pass the time. Well, it's become less of a game and more of a mission. So far, I haven't caught a single thing.

I, on the other hand, have checked out an embarrassing number of males _and_ females, either with or without Anthony nearby. I was strictly attracted to men, but I found myself checking out, for lack of a better word, the attractive female or so. It wasn't because I was interested, but more so the fact that I could appreciate female beauty. I also had a theory that boobs and eyes had some kind of magnetic force field... one that Anthony was completely unaffected by, of course.

"I don't think that will be a problem," Anthony told Lauren, looking between her and Angela, like a good conversationalist, but never lower than their eyes. "He's really cool, so I'm not worried about anything. It's not like he's going to be in our business or invade our privacy. His job is also quite demanding, since he's the owner of the company."

I didn't miss the pride that was evident in his voice. The adoration that he held for his father was amazing. Especially since the guy wasn't around for most of his childhood. Although Anthony always stuck up for him, claiming that his father worked such harsh hours so he could give Anthony the very best. I wasn't really sure how I felt about the guy, I figured I'd have to meet him to really know. The fact that he hadn't tried to talk to me yet was a good sign. I always thought it was the most awkward thing when a parent of a boyfriend or friend wants to talk to you over the phone. It was practically cringe worthy.

"Are you staying the whole summer?" Lauren asked me, sipping on her drink.

"I'm not really sure," I told her before looking over at Anthony. While it was probably something we should talk about, I figured I'd know when to leave when the time came.

"You should come back here when you get bored with him," she said playfully. Both Lauren and Angela were staying in Chicago for the summer. They were already in the process of moving into their own apartment and out of the dorm they'd been staying in all year. Angela was orphaned at a young age, and never adopted, only fostered, so she really didn't have any other place to be. After learning about it, Lauren opted to live with Angela rather than going home to a severely dysfunctional family, whom she wished to have no contact with, even though they were paying for her tuition and new apartment. "You can stay with us."

"I'll think about it," I told her, knowing the earliest I'd come back would be one or two weeks. When I did leave Anthony's house, I'd probably spend the remainder of the summer with my parents.

After our lunch carried on well into the evening chit chat about the upcoming months and our plans for the years to come, we decided it was time to say our goodbyes.

We all stood up, our checks having long been paid, and gravitated towards each other.

"You guys better come back this fall!" Lauren practically yelled, pulling me in for a tight hug. "And we all better do this again."

As Lauren went in to hug Anthony, Angela did the unexpected and came in to wrap her long, tanned arms around me. I was stunned for a second, but quickly hugged her back, my face barely reaching above her chest.

"I'm really glad I met you, Bella," she said in a surprisingly soft voice.

"Me too," I told her sincerely, pulling back at the same time she did. "You'll be back next year, right?"

"Of course," she said, her light tone surprising me once again. I seldom heard her speak, and I had always assumed she was kind of a hard ass. I was beginning to think I had misjudged. "No way in hell am I going through the torture of starting a new school again."

I laughed, agreeing with her. I suddenly wondered why I had never really spoken to her before. It wasn't like I was a 'don't speak unless spoken to' type of person. Regardless, I would make sure to get to know her a little better next school year.

Anthony and I walked hand-in-hand back to his car, silence washing over us. I wasn't sure about him, but I was thinking about my year here in Chicago and how much my life had changed.

Prior to my time here, I never had many close friends and only one serious boyfriend. There was Mike Newton, my first "boyfriend." He was a little boy with his sights set way too high. After mercilessly grinding on me for the duration of the Winter Formal my junior year in high school, he shoved his tongue down my throat and grabbed my ass. He then asked to fuck me in the bed of my truck and licked the _inside_ of my ear. I proceeded to wipe the saliva out of my ear and explain to him that I would never _ever_ do anything close to that with the likes of him. That coming week, the rumor that we _did it_ after the dance spread like wildfire, and I suddenly went from Virgin Mary to Backseat Bella. Nice, I know.

The next boyfriend I had was a foreign exchange student from Belgium named Basile, whom I dated the majority of my senior year. He had light brown hair, deeply tanned skin, and icy blue eyes. We became known to our peers as _Basilla. _He thought the notation of combining our names to signify our relationship status was both intriguing and endearing. I thought we sounded like a monster ready to ravage Tokyo. We ended up staying together for the remainder of our senior year, and I experienced most of my firsts with him. At the end of the year, he asked me to come back to Belgium with him, and I agreed without hesitation. I had always planned on taking a year off to travel anyway, and Belgium seemed like a nice place to start. The fact that my hot, French boyfriend would be there was merely an added bonus.

Within the first week of our arrival, his ex-girlfriend, Aurore, made her grand entrance back into his life, telling him that she was madly in love with him. In French, that is. I was near fluent in the language already, so it was only moderately difficult to keep up with the two. I got the gist of what they were saying.

It was honestly like watching a _mélodrame de français_. After their final scene, Basile asked her to give the two of us some time alone. I beat him to the chase and told him I understood, that I wasn't angry, and that she obviously was in love with him. It was all true. While I reveled in the fact that Basile was an attractive, foreign gentleman; that was pretty much the extent of my feelings for him. I wasn't head over heels in love with him, like Aurore. I was attracted to him, his personality included, and I knew it would be hard to find someone as good to me as he was, but I didn't put up a fight. I actually ended up staying with them for a few days, getting to know Aurore a little bit. We spoke in French and dined by the countryside. Aurore couldn't get over the fact that I wasn't upset at all, and I actually wanted to get to know her. This made her determined to visit America to observe our odd ways.

After that, I left for Paris, my Nikon and carry on the only things with me. I foolishly didn't let my parents know that I was traveling through Europe alone, since I figured it would only worry them. Back then, it never occurred to me that something horrible could happen, and not a single person would know where I was. I shuddered now, wondering how on earth I had been so naïve.

From Paris, I went to Germany, staying in the bigger cities rather than the country. I moved on to Poland and ended up spending a bit of time in Eastern Europe after that. I fell in love with Bulgaria. I begrudgingly left, and opted to spend the remainder of my trip in the UK. While I loved every other country I visited, I could actually see myself living somewhere in England.

Surprisingly, almost more so than my pictures, my iPod documented my time in Europe. I uploaded new music sporadically, making sure to download a lot of the local music of whatever country or location I was in. Now, I could easily get lost in a faraway European country without even leaving my room. It wasn't the same, of course, but it served as a nice getaway every now and then, sparking memories and feelings that I had all but forgotten.

"You are so lost right now," I faintly heard Anthony tell me. He chuckled a bit, shaking his head. "I love that about you, you know?"

"What?" I asked, bemused. "My lack of ability to pay attention?"

"In a way, I guess," he said, nodding. "I love that you can just get lost in your own world. I don't know where you go, but sometimes I just want to be there with you. You could have the most hectic and stressful situation put in front of you, and yet, you could step away from it all, even just for a few fleeting moments."

I laughed. "I don't think that's a _good_ thing. That I run away from all my problems and go off into La-la Land? No, that doesn't seem like a shining quality."

"You know what I mean," he told me, still smiling. "I'm not saying you run away from your problems, you simply don't let them control you."

I had never looked at it that way before. I guess he did have a point. "Time for Bella to snap back into reality though, unfortunately. What time are we leaving tomorrow?"

He looked thoughtful for a moment. "I was thinking we should load up at around ten in the morning. I'll have put everything necessary into storage by then, and have the furniture covered."

"I can help," I offered, feeling completely useless. Anthony had already bought a humongous storage unit for our belongings, so we wouldn't have to take them with us. Since he planned on keeping his same apartment, he was leaving the major pieces of furniture at his place, but everything he didn't want stolen, he was going to put away in the storage unit. Then, he was going to come back home and cover all the furniture by himself, because he wanted me to be well rested before getting on the road. "Really, I can cover the furniture while you put everything into storage. It'll work out best that way, _and_ I won't feel like your lazy mooch of a girlfriend."

"You're going to do this when I'm gone no matter what, aren't you?" he asked, raising a single eyebrow at me.

"You're catching on," I said with a wink.

That next morning, I woke up at eight, just as Anthony was leaving, his TV, PlayStation, and other various expensive electronics stored away in his car. I was showered and ready with my hair in a lovely wet bun, adorning a pair of white shorts and a University of Chicago tee. I made quick work of covering the furniture. I found it cute that Anthony didn't want his furniture to collect dust in these three months away. It was something most guys wouldn't give thought to at all. It was something _I_ would never have given thought to.

I had just gathered my bags to load up my Jeep when Anthony walked in through the door.

"I was going to put those in your car for you, but I didn't know if there was any specific bag you wanted to put on top or keep out."

"Thanks," I told him, smiling brightly. "I just need this bag out," I said, holding up my oversized leather bag I had gotten for Christmas two years ago.

We loaded our cars quickly since we were traveling pretty light— for most college students going home, that is. Once we had stowed away the last of our luggage, we did a quick once-over of the apartment, and he locked the door behind him for what felt like the last time. But really, we would be back in a few months.

"I hate that we can't ride together," he told me, kissing my forehead. "Drive safe, baby."

"I will, _Dad_," I teased, rolling my eyes. "I'll be like ten feet behind you the whole time. If you start to miss me too much, just look in your rear view."

"Okay, _smart ass_, I hope you'll be a little farther than ten feet behind me," he quipped, rolling his eyes a bit, but still keeping his playful demeanor.

I leaned up to kiss him, giving him a quick peck on the lips. "You better go fast. I _will_ get on your ass if you do even a mile under the limit."

"You don't need to worry about that," he said, leaning down to kiss me again. "If anything, you should worry about being able to keep up."

With that, he pressed his lips to mine one more time and dashed to his car, getting in and starting the engine in record time.

I followed quickly, jumping into my Jeep and taking off a second or two after him. He kept his word and drove quickly, even before we had hit the highway. We goofed off, honking and swerving and waving at each other sporadically. The excited humor died down after about half an hour on the road, the drive beginning to get a little dull.

_Only twenty-nine and a half more hours of driving_, I reminded myself, groaning out loud at the prospect of driving that long.

I realized we probably should have taken Anthony's dad up on the offer of flying us out and having our stuff shipped. It would have saved us, what, twenty-five hours? But I was adamant on driving. I didn't want my Jeep flown in or driven cross country by anyone else. Plus, I'd always loved road trips and travel.

But thirty hours alone in a car? Maybe I didn't think that one through.

I sighed, figuring there was no point in dwelling on the past and what I should or shouldn't have done. Instead, I cranked up my Road Trip playlist that I had assembled the night before on my iPod.

My playlist consisted of songs with fast beats and melodies. Needless to say, artists such as Simon and Garfunkel wouldn't be found on this playlist, absolutely no relaxing while doing long drives for me. Ending up dying in a ditch because I fell asleep at the wheel was definitely in my top ten worst ways to go list.

The next few hours flew by as Anthony and I whizzed down the highway. It was _amazing_ to not have to worry about directions. All I had to do was follow Anthony, noting when he turned his blinker on. The sun was bright in the sky, it only being two in the afternoon, and I knew we were nearing Iowa. Anthony and I agreed to stop once we got out of Illinois. We were on a mission.

Before I knew it, Anthony and I were passing the sign that let us know we were officially in a new state. He started honking like crazy, and soon I joined in, giving a honk or two of my own.

Not two minutes into Iowa, my phone started buzzing. I knew who it was without having to look at the ID.

"I'm starving!" Anthony exclaimed, laughing a little. "Seriously, I just went like five hours without food. Why the hell didn't we bring snacks? Aren't you starving?"

I laughed at his energy. "I'm not too bad. But since you are obviously nearing malnutrition, I'll let you choose where we eat. As long as we can pick up a Starbucks coffee afterward."

"I don't know," he said. "Let's just take the next exit and drive around until we find something. Then we can find you a Starbucks. I doubt we'll have to go very far. They're fucking everywhere."

My eyes went wide momentarily when I heard him curse. It wasn't like he never cursed, but it wasn't often, and it was almost never the F-bomb. I wondered what had gotten into him today. He was much more playful and energetic than usual, and he just said 'fucking'. I figured he must have been pretty excited. I quickly agreed, and stayed on the phone with him, following his every move.

We ended up driving around a little town filled with gritty gas stations and truck stops and run down fast food places. Maybe not the best choice in exits, but we decided to stop at the next semi-sanitary looking place.

"Chuck's Chicken?" he asked, the hesitation in his voice apparent.

"Maybe we can look a little farther," I said, wondering how much further we'd actually have to look.

Finally, we spotted a Taco Bell that looked surprisingly clean, from the outside at least.

We pulled into the barren parking lot and got out to stretch. God, my ass was hot. Not in the good way, either, I just felt sweaty. Stretching my legs and back felt amazing, and I could tell Anthony was enjoying it, too. Not only were his limbs much longer and his car a bit smaller, but he also had a lot more energy than me. Especially today, it seemed. Poor guy.

He walked over to me, his eyes raking over the length of my body. I rolled my eyes when he gave me Joey's famous line of, "How _you_ doin'?"

"I guess you didn't get the memo," I told him seriously, "but it's not really necessary for you to try to pick up a girl who's already your girlfriend. _Especially_ when she's driving across the country to spend the summer with you."

"Fine, I'll just use my _smooth_ lines on someone else," Anthony said, nodding. "Let's see how you like that."

"Like you would ever do that," I scoffed, not even really joking. I knew he wouldn't hit on another girl, even if only as a joke.

"How _you_ doin'?" I snapped my head up to see Anthony smirking at the cashier, nodding his head slightly. My mouth fell open and laughter quickly poured out. I caught a glance at the cashier and my laughter increased a tenfold.

"Um, wh-what can I get for you?" the scrawny boy with shoulder-length, stringy hair asked us, looking at Anthony.

Anthony ordered casually as if nothing had happened. "I'll have two Gordita Supremes and a two volcano tacos, please."

My laughter died down quickly as I ordered my two tacos and burrito, sans onions. I detested onions in most situations. We got our cups and filled our drinks while our food was being prepared.

"You're such a weirdo," I told Anthony over our late lunch.

He scarfed down his food faster than I had ever seen him eat before. I was kind of in shock. I quickly let it go. He was a man, after all, and a hungry one at that. He waited patiently for me to finish my food, and even ate half of my burrito. After I had asked him if he wanted it, of course.

We drove to the nearest gas station and filled up, Anthony paying for the both of us. I protested, but he insisted. And hey, who was I to turn down free gasoline? We walked into the actual store and grabbed whatever caught our eye.

Beef jerky, chips, candy, chocolate, soda, and Arizona tea made my stockpile, and Anthony's was at least twice as large. He paid for the whole lot, as I had expected.

It was already late afternoon, nearing evening, when we got back on the highway. We figured we'd stop at ten at night, having gotten ten hours of driving in by then. Then, we'd be one third of the way through.

One fucking third of the way.

Was it too late to catch a plane?

It was only three days of travel, I'd done much, much longer before. But it's different when you're _already_ somewhere exciting and you're traveling somewhere even better. This was thirty hours of American highways, which I didn't place in the same category as a train ride through Europe.

I figured I would stop and get some photographs in along the way. Beauty was everywhere, regardless of the location, you just have to look a little harder sometimes.

As the sun was getting ready to set, I called Anthony and let him know that I wanted to get some pictures. The golden lighting was perfect, as was the location. There was an equal proportion of man and nature, the smooth road running alongside the trees and wildflowers. I captured an eclectic range of shots, some focusing on the nature, some capturing the more industrial point of view, some a mix of both. I then moved onto Anthony, my unofficial model. My camera loved him I think even more than I did, and whether he knew it or not, the love was mutual.

I played with the lighting and positions, getting on top of my Jeep at one point to get a bird's eye view of him lying in the jewel toned wildflowers, bathing in the rich sunlight.

After my more serious shots were in, I started having fun with it. Several cars passed, quite a bit of them honking. I photographed them, too.

After a while, I let Anthony have his turn at cameraman. He was one of the only people I trusted with my baby, but he took meticulous care of it, even using the neck strap. _I_ didn't even use that.

It started getting dark, and the lighting wasn't nearly as good, so we decided to get back on the road. We drove fast, making up for the lost time, I guess. It wasn't like we had a deadline, but I think Anthony wanted to get home even worse than I did. I drank my soda and made a serious dent in my junk food stash. I was starting to get tired, and even the caffeine in my warm Dr. Pepper wasn't helping.

The darker it got, the more fatigued I became. It was just past nine. I honestly didn't know whether or not I could last another hour.  
>I cranked my music up louder and snaked on my junk food. I rolled the windows down and let the cool night air in, waking me up even more.<p>

Ten o'clock rolled around and we had barely scraped the state lines of South Dakota. But that was one state closer to our destination, and I was damn happy about that.

My phone's battery had died a few cities ago, rendering communication with Anthony that much harder. Anthony had a car charger, so he was fine in that department, but I was sure he wouldn't have a hard time figuring out that mine had died. I would just follow him to the hotel, I just hoped it was coming up soon.

As luck would have it, not ten minutes later, we were pulling into a Holiday Inn. It wasn't anything fancy, but it was pretty nice, especially for the area. But at this point, a room with a shower and a bed was all I needed.

I used Anthony for support as we made our way to our room. I collapsed onto the bed, even though I knew I wouldn't be able to get in it yet. I still had to wash up.

Fuck.

I groaned face down in the hotel pillow. I was so eager to get in the room and out of my car, that I completely forgot my overnight bag. And my beloved memory foam pillow and fleece blanket. "Anthony?"

"Yes?" he responded, poking his head out of the bathroom.

"Will you get my stuff out of my car?" I asked, too tired to feel guilty for sending him out to get my bags like some bellhop. "It's the black bag on top of the pillow and blanket, which I would be forever indebted to you if you retrieved as well."

"Sure," he answered, pulling his sweat pants on and heading out the door. I closed my eyes and quickly drifted off.

The sharp sound of a heavy door closing aroused me from my quick sleep. Anthony had returned with my bag. I hugged and kissed him before going into the bathroom to get ready for bed. I hated washing up when I was this tired, all I wanted to do was turn off the lights and curl up in bed.

Who knew sitting all day could make you so tired?

I finished quickly and Anthony went in after me, presumably to finish washing up.

I threw my bag and worn clothes onto a chair and took my pillow and blanket to bed. I was knocked out before Anthony even emerged from the restroom.

The light of the morning shone through the drawn curtains of the unfamiliar room. I squinted before shoving my face deeper into my pillow. I heard rustling and peaked up to find Anthony fully dressed and ready for the day.

"What time is it?" I croaked sleepily. I felt rested, but still groggy.

"Seven thirty," he answered, sipping a cup of coffee.

"And how long have you been up?" I asked, stretching a little.

"About an hour now," he answered. I was glad he let me sleep a little more before waking me up to hit the road again.

I got ready just as quickly as I had the previous morning, finding a soft pair of khaki pants I've had since high school and a white, flowy tank.

"I must say, your ass looks amazing in those pants," Anthony said as we left the room.

"Thanks. They're old enough to be in kindergarten," I told him, kind of glad that I could still fit into the pants I had in my teens. I definitely didn't want to be one of those women who squished their ass into jeans from the nineties and claimed to still have the body of a teenager in their mid-thirties. I was simply glad I had avoided the dreaded freshman fifteen.

I had personally witnessed cases of the weight gain phenomena. Lauren, for example, was at least three sizes smaller when I had first met her. She was by no means fat, but she was a really skinny girl when she first started out at Chicago. I saw a picture we had taken in September recently and was surprised by the change. I was pretty sure I, on the other hand, looked the same. I couldn't tell if that was a good or bad thing. I mean, my B-cups weren't exactly ideal. While I wasn't insecure about my body, I couldn't help but wish that I could fill out a C.

Anthony checked out of the hotel and took me out to breakfast. We took his car, since we would have to go back the way we came regardless of whether we took both our cars or not. It was nice to not have to do the driving. It was something I had taken for granted.

When we were seated at the pancake house, my eyes went directly to the stomach of our waitress. I tried to determine if she was pregnant, or just potbellied. The former would be a much more appealing notation, but I wasn't sure if it was the case.

Anthony caught my staring and nudged me under the table. I shifted my eyes over to him and he raised his eyebrow at me.

"Do you know what you want?" he asked. I hadn't even realized the waitress had taken his order.

"I'll have the French Toast and some coffee, please," I said, forcing myself to look at her face and _not_ her protruding stomach.

"Was she pregnant?" I asked, cocking my head to the side slightly, a habit I picked up from my friend and former roommate, Maggie. I was pretty sure she pulled it off a hell of a lot better.

"I'm not sure," he said softly, looking at his menu, despite the fact that he had already ordered.

I sighed and played with my silverware. I didn't want to get into this, I felt stupid for even bringing the subject up.

We made small talk and discussed our plans for the road while our food was being prepared.

"We could do two more grueling days of travel, or three more less horrible days," he said, sighing. "I'd opt for two days, but the choice is yours."

"Two days," I agreed. "Three days will seem longer, even if we skin a few hours off the travel. It's not worth it."

"Great. Today's going to be a long day," he said, leaning back in his seat. He was less energetic than the day before, but that was to be expected. I was sure we'd both be downright cynical in our last hours on the road. "We're basically in a little cranny between Iowa and Nebraska right now, and it'll probably take us most of the day to get to Montana."

Our breakfast came and I started to inquire about Anthony's childhood, something I didn't do too often.

"You were in Chicago for four years, right?" I asked, remembering the time he took me to his first home, just a few miles outside of the university. Other than that, I realized I didn't know very much about the rest of his childhood.

"Yeah, we moved to Washington a little bit before my fifth birthday," he told me, pausing to take a bite of his pancakes. "It's where my grandparents are, so I'm really glad we moved there. I can't wait for you to meet everyone, Bella."

"So I'll be meeting your dad and grandparents?" I asked, silently wondering about his mom. He'd never mentioned her before, and I'd never asked, afraid it was a sore subject. "Anyone else?"

"No, you're only going to meet three people this summer," he teased, smirking playfully. "You're going to meet many people close to me, and they're all going to adore you."

"Because I make such great first impressions, right?" I asked, sarcasm evident in my voice. I never make very good impression for myself when I first met people. It was a curse. And nerves.

We finished our breakfast and Anthony paid the bill. We left at around half past eight. I never found out if the waitress was pregnant, or just chubby.

Before I knew it, we were on the road again, and I found myself slipping into a day dream. I wondered where Anthony grew up and the kind of people he hung out with. I wondered if he ever had any pets. I wondered why I had never bothered to ask him about any of it before.

I tried to picture Anthony's family, and what he looked like as a little boy. I wondered if his childhood was anything like mine.

I was so lost in my own thoughts that I didn't notice the illuminated red break lights of the halted car directly in front of me.


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks so much to Dragonfly336 and Phoenixjedi for beta-ing this chapter.**

Chapter Three

"Fuck!" I yelled, slamming on my brakes. Anthony's car was getting closer and closer as my car slowly skidded to a stop.

I crushed the brake with my foot, practically trying to drive it through the floor. I gritted my teeth and braced myself for impact.

_Thud._

My head jerked forward and my seat belt constricted, holding me in a tight grip, as I rear-ended my boyfriend's car.

My boyfriend's _stopped_ car. Why the hell was he completely stopped?

I saw Anthony emerge from his car, briskly walking over to me. I put my hazards on and hopped out of my vehicle, walking past Anthony and to the front of my car.

"Fuck," I said once again, resting my hand on the back of my neck. What just happened?

"Are you okay?" Anthony asked, eyeing me with concern.

_I'm obviously fine,_ I said mentally, wondering if he was truly concerned. It was a small fender-bender. We were both obviously fine. "Yeah, I'm fine. You?" I said instead, figuring that after rear-ending him, the least I could do was be polite.

"I'm fine," he said, placing his hand on my back.  
>"What did you stop for?" I asked, looking around for any signs of what he could have possibly deemed worthy of stopping in the middle of the road for.<p>

"A bunny," he admitted sheepishly. "I figured you were far enough behind me to brake in time."

"I'm sorry," I said, my turn to be sheepish. "I was lost in thought."

"It's fine," he assured me. "Neither one of us is hurt, and the damage is nothing more than a few small dents and scratches. I'll take care of it."

I opened my mouth to protest, about to remind him who slammed into whom, but he cut me off.

"Seriously, I don't want you to worry about this. I'll have it fixed as soon as we get to Seattle."

"Okay," I nodded. I paused, unsure of what else to say. "Is the bunny safe?"

"It's happily frolicking in the grass with its woodland friends, oblivious of the commotion it's caused."

"At least," I muttered, internally cursing the damn little havoc-wreaking rabbit.

"We better get going again," he said, leaning down to kiss my unresponsive lips.

I got back into my car and tried to shake off the weird feeling I had gotten. I knew, consciously, that everything was fine, but I still had this anxious feeling that I couldn't seem to shake. I used to have anxiety issues as a child, but that hadn't surfaced in years_. _I just hoped that I didn't have a panic attack. That was the _last_ thing I needed.

The longer I drove, the calmer I became. Two in the afternoon rolled around, but instead of getting lunch, Anthony and I just continued to eat the food we had with us.

After a day of speeding and minimal stops, we were in Montana.

Fucking Montana.

It wasn't bad at first, not at all. It was like every other state we'd been through, really. But it didn't stay that way.

Well into the night, Anthony and I decided to find somewhere to stay. And God help me if I didn't feel like we were Mary and Joseph trying to find a fucking inn; because _that's_ how hard it was to find a decent place.

We settled on a little place that was on the edge of dilapidation. The halls screamed death, and I'm pretty sure there were more than three types of bodily fluid stains on the floor.

Don't even get me started on the mattress.

If there was even an inch of room in my Jeep, I'd be sleeping there.

Anthony and I got ready for bed, making our way around each other. We made petty small talk and discussed plans for the upcoming day.

As soon as we turned out the lights and got into the highly questionable bed, an unmistakable sound permeated throughout the walls.

Sex.

Thumps and groans were heard clearly through the thin walls as Anthony and I lay awake listening. I cringed when it started to get particularly heated.

"I'm getting my iPod," I told him, getting out of bed. I was glad I had the sense to bring it with me.

I put the buds in my ears and turned my music on, all other noises erased.

I did feel bad for Anthony, who lay with his back facing me, a pillow on both sides of his head. But, it wasn't like our _neighbors_ could go on forever. They'd stop eventually.

Until then, it was every ear for itself.

I drifted into a mostly dreamless sleep, random flashes of pictures and memories fleeting through my mind.

All too soon we were waking up again, the light of morning shining through the grimy windows.

"How'd you sleep?" Anthony asked in a gruff voice, reaching for his glasses.

"Better than you, I'm sure," I said, getting out of bed. Typically, I tended to stay in bed as long as possible before getting up, but I really wanted to get the hell out of the dingy, little hotel.

Anthony wanted us to shower together, but there was no way the two of us could fit into the tiny cubicle at the same time. I took a quick shower first and was almost ready for the day by the time he got out.

We checked out quickly and grabbed some coffee and doughnuts from a Dunkin' Donuts that was conveniently attached to a gas station. Anthony bought us more snacks for the road, but I had already gotten sick of sweets, and about everything else one would find at a gas station.

I took the food anyway, knowing I'd be hungry later.

The first hour on the road was fine.

The second was anything but.

A series of horrible sounding noises came from my car as it began to get shaky.

"No, no, no!" I yelled at the huge machine. "Are you fucking kidding me?"

I called Anthony, telling him I needed to pull over as soon as possible.

"Are you sure you didn't just hit something?" he asked, questioning my judgment.

"I could have," I told him, getting agitated. "And whatever I hit popped my tire. So yeah, I'm fucking sure."

"Sorry," he apologized. "There's a truck stop coming up pretty soon, can you make it?"

"Let's hope so," I muttered before hitting the _end_ button.

I rolled into the rest stop, parking out of the way of everything. I uncovered the tire that was conveniently placed on the back of my Jeep, handing it to Anthony. "Do you know how to change a tire, perchance?"

"I actually do," he said, grabbing the hefty wheel from me. "My aunt taught me when I got my license."

"She's in Seattle?" I questioned.

"Yeah," he told me, grabbing the necessary tools for the job.

"I'll be sure to thank her."

"Baby, I'm the one changing your tire, not her," he smirked. "_I_ fully expect a personal 'thank you' later."

I raised my eyebrow at him. "Surely you're not insinuating you want some sort of... _favor_ from me in return for your services?"

"That's exactly what I'm insinuating, dear," he said, grinning now.

It wasn't like Anthony to be forward in any way, but I fully intended to take advantage of his current mood. "I think I have something in mind that might suffice."

_Something in mind that might suffice? Real hot, Bella, real hot. No one can question _your _ability to flirt._

"I'm going to use the restroom," I announced, getting up from where I sat to find the bathroom. Anthony was almost done with my tire and I knew he'd want to get back on the road as soon as he finished.

Once I had thoroughly washed my hands of all public restroom germs, I headed back out to where Anthony and I were parked.

Then, out of nowhere, a grimy hand shot out, grabbing my wrist.

"Do you sin? Jesus hates sinners!" he rasped, his putrid breath fanning across my face.

"Okay," I said, moderately horrified. "I'll keep that in mind. Thank you."

"Do you want to see something?" he growled. "Do you want to see it!"

Stunned, I shook my head 'no'. I did _not_ want to see anything this dirty man had to show me. He was obviously homeless and completely nuts. My heart started pounding in my chest, sheer fright coursing through me. I watched as he fished around in the shallow front pocket of his shirt, digging for something. For what seemed like minutes, his fingers dug through the small crevice, searching for something I was sure wasn't there.

Finally, he pulled something out. A small blue crucifix. The man, now completely shielding me with his body, shoved the small cross in my face. I turned my head away instinctively, trying to get as far away from him as possible. Where the hell was Anthony? I was too scared to call out for help, but I really needed it at the moment.

Without warning, his dirty finger was dragging down my forehead, making its way to my chin. I cringed from his touch, trying to yank my arm free. His finger now harshly moved horizontally across my face, directly under my eyes.

_He just drew a cross on me_, I concluded, still terrified.

The man inhaled deeply, opening his mouth to say more when a voice cut him off.

"Bella!" I heard Anthony's worried voice shout.

He quickly made his way over to where the filthy man had me hostage.

"Could you please let her go?" he said firmly. I stared at him in disbelief. He seriously just _asked_ if I could be let free? Was he just going to walk away if the man answered 'no'?

The man pressed the warm cross into my face, ignoring Anthony completely.

"Let her go," Anthony said, sounding like he was chiding a small child who was holding on a little too roughly to another child. _Not_ like he was talking to the crazy man who was currently pressing a crucifix repeatedly into his girlfriend's face.

The man inspected my face, his grip becoming looser. He nodded once, before shoving me backwards and walking away.

I stumbled, but managed not to fall over. Anthony came over to me, hugging me tightly to him.

I wiggled out of his grasp. "I think I've had my personal space violated enough for the time being, thanks," I snapped, irked at my annoyingly non-confrontational boyfriend.

"Are you okay?" he asked, following me back to our cars.

"I'm fine." _No thanks to you_, I added mentally. "Come to think of it, I could really use a fucking shower now, or at least wash my face and hands, but I'd like to get the fuck out of here as soon as possible, so I'll settle for some Germ-X."

Anthony cringed. I knew he hated it when I cursed, but right now, I really couldn't give a shit. I hated it when boyfriends stood idly by while their girlfriends were being face-molested by creepy, pious homeless men. So, I think I deserved to speak freely.

"Let's just get going," I sighed, wanting to get far, far away from this location. I started up my Jeep and waited for Anthony to leave the lot so I could follow.

I turned on my music, Franz Ferdinand blaring through my speakers.

_I wanna live alone_

_Because the greatest love is always_

_Ruined by the bickering_

_The argument of living_

_I wanna live alone_

I belted the lyrics, willing myself not to close my eyes, since that would likely result in another accident.

The next few hours flew by as I followed Anthony's speeding car down the empty highway. We broke numerous traffic laws, but there didn't seem to be a single cop around, which I was truly grateful for.

In what seemed like no time, we had to stop for gas.

"I've got it," Anthony said, coming over to swipe his card at my station. I didn't just get a little, either. I filled up.

"Will I ever pay for my own gas again?" I asked, shaking my head. "Or anything, for that matter?"

"Maybe one day," he said, grinning. "But no time soon, if I can help it."

"Well, I'm going to buy my _own_ Icee from inside," I told him. "I hope that doesn't offend you too greatly."

"The thought alone is tearing me up inside," he said dramatically. "But I suppose I can let you, if it means that much to you..."

"I'm glad you understand," I said, heading inside. Not to be codependent, but I was just a little worried something would happen. Especially away from Anthony. With my luck, I would probably get caught in the cross-fire of a gas station hold-up.

I quickly knocked on the wood of the shelf holding the bags of chips. Just in case.

I filled up two medium Icees and went to pay for them at the register. I pulled out my phone instead of my wallet, seeing that I had a missed call from Maggie. I made a mental note to call her back after I paid for the drinks. I quickly handed the man at the register the bills and left, two cold, brightly dyed, artificially flavored Icees in hand.

"Thanks, babe," Anthony said as I handed him his. I mixed the cherry and cola flavors, just like I knew he liked.

We were well into our route again when I had the distinct feeling I had forgotten something.

_Phone? Check._

_Wallet? Check._

_Gas cap on? Check._

I didn't think there was anything else I could have forgotten.

Wait.

I took one hand on the wheel to inspect my back pockets.

Wallet? Yes. Phone? No.

Shit.

I started furiously flashing my brights to get Anthony's attention. I turned my blinker on, hoping he'd pick up on it.

Luckily, he did, and pulled over immediately.

Ha. I kind of felt like a cop.

_Not what's important right now!_ I mentally chided myself.

I stepped out of the car as soon as it was stopped and went to meet Anthony where he stood.

"I took out my phone and put it on the counter at the gas station and left it there," I told him in a rush, my words slurring together, bouncing around in my nervousness.

"This is why you shouldn't pay for things!" he joked, understanding me right off the bat. Somehow.

"I'll call your phone," he said, taking out his phone, immediately dialing my number. "Hello, yes?... The phone you have?... Yes, yes, we're on our way to get it now... Of course it is... No, it's my girlfriend's... Well, it's not like she could call you... Would you recognize her?... I'm pretty sure... Yes, she is... Great, we'll be there shortly."

"Well, that sounded odd," I said, wondering what the cashier had said to him.

"Just a bit," Anthony nodded. "Let's go."

We sped even faster down the road as Anthony led me back to the gas station where I left my phone.

I hopped out of my car and into the store, hoping my phone was still there. Logically, I knew it would be there, but I couldn't help but freak out a bit.

"Hi, I'm here to get my—" I looked up to find the cashier leaning over the counter, using my phone. "Phone," I finished, staring at the man in disbelief.

"Ah-huh," he said, nodding his head. I wasn't sure if he was talking to me or whoever he was on the phone with. "Ah-huh. Okay. Bye-bye."

I stood there, stunned, as he finished his phone call on _my_ phone.

"Mag-gee called," he said nonchalantly, a thick accent coating his words. An Asian accent of some sort, I thought. He held my phone in his hand like nothing was out of the ordinary.

"Thanks," I said slowly, drawing the word out. He smiled at me.

"Here you," he said, his lack of English apparent, as he held the phone out to me. I walked towards him, extending my arm out to take the phone.

"Okay," I said, taking my phone from the odd man. I walked out of the store a little confounded.

"You okay?" Anthony asked, noting my expression.

"Perfect," I nodded, getting back in my car. I slurped at my melting Icee, my phone safely resting beside my thigh.

I sighed, thinking about my long, stressful day.

_And it wasn't even half over._

I honestly had no clue how I would survive the final chapter of the trip. So far, it hadn't gone very well. Fuck doing this _ever_ again. When fall came around, I was going to fly back to school. First class. No layovers. No delays. That sounded amazing.

Day slowly drifted into night and my eyes were getting heavier. But I was determined not to stop until we arrived at our destination. I honestly had no clue where we were at this point. We could be in Washington for all I knew. I sure as hell hoped that was the case. The lack of attention I was paying at the moment was almost frightening. I fought to keep my eyes on the road, on the back of Anthony's car to be specific. As long as that was in sight, and at a safe distance in front of me, I would be fine.

The ringing of my phone pierced through the silent car, my loud music having been long since turned off.

"Hello?" I sighed, figuring it was Anthony.

"Is this Bella?" the feminine voice asked, legitimately unsure.

"Um," I said, far too tired, "yes?"

"Fucking finally!" she screeched, laughing a little. "I've been trying to get a hold of you all day. I even ended up talking to some Chinese guy for a bit. Care to explain that one?"

"Maybe later," I laughed, concluding that it was my first college roommate, Maggie, on the phone. She was an energetic thing, and always spoke her mind. She looked like the typical Irish girl, with light blue eyes set on a pale, freckled face. Her light orange, flame-like hair matched her personality, and her stereotype, quite well.

"I just wanted to tell you that you've got quite the assortment of belongings with me," she laughed. "It's like you never moved out, really."

I groaned. I was the worst about leaving things and forgetting about them, as my phone incident probably attested to. "Like what?"

"Some clothes and shoes," she began to list, "a _bra_, which I have no idea how you left without noticing. I know it's yours because it looks like it belongs to a thirteen year old Amish girl... your purple fleece blanket that I've been using all year, and probably some other small stuff."

"Okay," I said, fine with the fact. Obviously I wasn't missing anything too badly, although I _had_ wondered where my blanket disappeared to. I probably should have noticed it during one of my many stays with Maggie in our old room. "Maybe I'll get some of it back when I visit you this summer?"

"Only if you remind me. Before long, I'll have forgotten what's yours and what's mine."

I was glad I would get to see Maggie this summer. She lived in Portland, Oregon, which wasn't too far off from Seattle. Not like Chicago was, at least. "Fair enough. When are you going home?"

"Next week," she said with a sigh. "I'm flying out and having everything shipped, shipping costs be damned."

"Wise decision," I muttered, wishing I had done the same for the millionth time. "I'm driving."

"Yeah, I've made that drive before. It fucking sucks," she agreed. "You should be close by now, right?"

"I think so. Although, I'm honestly not sure where the hell I am right now," I relayed, looking around for _some_ sort of indication of where I was. A sign would be nice.

I stayed talking on the phone to Maggie for quite some time, the conversation keeping me awake. I told her about the tire and the homeless man and the man at the gas station who was apparently named Mr. Shin. She laughed at my encounters, telling me that she'd love to get me to Portland, where the fuckery intensifies tenfold.

"Holy shit," I breathed, catching a glimpse at the green sign overhead. "I'm in Kettle Falls, Washington."

"I have no idea where that is," Maggie said, sounding slightly unimpressed.

"Neither do I, but it's in Washington!" I yelled, more excited than I have been since starting this trip. "It's almost over!"

"Oh, no," she said ominously, "the very last part is always the worst."

"I've just driven cross-country. I can handle a few more cities," I scoffed, unwilling to let her bring me down.

Unfortunately, Maggie was dead right.

Those last few miles kicked my butt.

I felt disgusting and my ass was on fire from sitting for so damn long. My car felt too crowded and messy, and the towns seemed to go on longer that the states we went through. Not to mention the level of fatigue I felt was overwhelming.

But, after what felt like an eternity, I got the call from Anthony.

"We're so close, babe," he said, sounding almost as tired as me.

"How close?" I yawned.

"We've got maybe half an hour tops."

"Not close enough," I half-groaned, half-muttered.

I thought the last few miles would drag on painfully slow, but I was too distracted with the lights and the brand new scenery to complain.

This _is why I travel_, I reminded myself, marveling at my new surroundings.

Anthony and I were going considerably slower, taking many more turns on more populated roads.

The anticipation was bubbling up inside of me, waking me up momentarily. Thankfully. I hoped I would have some energy in me when I met Anthony's family, since it would probably come across as rude to ignore them completely to find the nearest bed.

_'Hello, nice to meet you. I'm dead fucking tired, so I'm just going to sleep in one of your beds now, thanks.'_

Yeah, that would go over smoothly.

My weary eyes stayed wide open for the remainder of the drive, absorbing everything around me.

Before I knew it, we were branching off into a more secluded area, which led to a neighborhood with sparse, large houses scattered about. I marveled at the unique beauty of each one, wondering what it would be like to live there.

The further into the neighborhood we got, the grander the houses became, and the more separated. I followed him up a small but steep, spiraling hill until we were in the parking lot of a ginormous gray brick house. It had a Victorian look to it, but it didn't look like one of those Hollywood haunted houses. It was breathtaking.

"Home sweet home," Anthony muttered, opening my back side door to get a few of my bags out. I helped him unload, my tired muscles protesting with every strenuous movement. Anthony and I walked towards the house, which could quite possibly qualify as a mansion, and walked in through the unlocked doors.

The first thing I noticed was the amazing smell. It smelled fresh and warm. Inviting. I usually hated the smell of other people's houses, at least at first, but this one smelled perfect.

The second thing I noticed was the absolutely stunning interior. Its historic roots were well preserved in some aspects, but the modern touches blended perfectly with it.

_People actually lived here?_

The third thing I noticed was Anthony's father. He wasn't bad looking at all, and I could definitely see the family resemblance. He looked to be in his mid-forties. I watched as the two men embraced, the bags dropped from Anthony's arms. The elegant woman behind him smiled brightly at the two. I wondered who she was for a moment. Could this be Bev, Anthony's nanny?

Anthony moved to hug the woman, her arms wrapping tightly around him. Of course they were close; she practically raised him, from what I was told. Her and his grandparents, that was. I briefly wondered if she and Anthony's father had anything going on. It would make sense. They looked close in age and pretty comfortable with each other.

Before I could think any further on the subject, Anthony's father came over to me to introduce himself. "It's so lovely to meet you, Bella. I'm Carlisle."

"Carlisle?" I asked quizzically. "I thought your name was Edward?"

The blonde man laughed heartily. "I like this one!" he said, his smile wide. "No, I'm Anthony's grandfather. Our son, Edward, is still upstairs I believe."

"Oh," I said, nodding my head in understanding. "Carlisle, of course. It's so good to meet you."

The pretty woman came over and hugged me almost as tightly as she did Anthony. "I'm Esme, Anthony's grandmother," she said, pulling back.

"Nice to meet you," I said genuinely.

"You two must be dead tired," Esme said, looking between Anthony and me. "It's what, two in the morning in Chicago?"

"Yeah, about," Anthony said, rubbing the back of his neck. "But I wanted to see Dad before going to bed."

I smiled at Anthony's words, his relationship with his father, his whole family, was so endearing.

"I'm assuming he's dozed off in his study," Carlisle said, cocking his head towards the stairway.

Carlisle and Anthony took the majority of the bags while Esme and I followed helplessly behind, a few light bags and pillows in hand.

"You two will both be staying in Anthony's room, I'm assuming?" Carlisle asked, raising his eyebrow at us.

"Yes," Anthony said at the same time I said, "no."

I looked at Anthony sheepishly, shrugging my shoulders. "Maybe just for a little while?"

"I guess," he said, dividing our bags. He stopped suddenly, his head jerking up. "Dad!"

He stood up, quickly making his way over to the end of the hall, where I presumed his father was. I watched as Anthony's father hugged him tightly. I couldn't see him very well, but from what I could tell, he was a little taller than Anthony and had an _amazing_ head of hair. Come to think of it, Carlisle barely had a receding hairline, his light blond hair looking thick and healthy. And Esme was beautiful, her skin probably better than most of the girls I knew from college. Albeit, that's because of their excessive tanning and make-up clogged pores, but still...

_Seriously, how the hell did they do that?_

Either way, a part of me was pretty happy to know that Anthony would obviously age very well. There was no doubt in that.

I was pulled out of my mini daydream as I noticed Anthony and his father coming towards us.

_Holy sh..._

That was one attractive specimen.

My eyes, without my brain's consent, traveled down his body before suddenly shifting back to Anthony. I had to force myself not to look back at his father, Edward.

_Please do not check out your boyfriend's father_, I pleaded with myself. _However attractive he may be._

"Bella," Edward said, his deep, unbelievably smooth voice snapping me out of my little pep-talk. "It's so great to finally meet you."

I froze as he came closer, presumably to hug me like the rest of his family, opening his arms slightly. Instead, he placed one hand on my shoulder, and held the other out of me to shake. I took it awkwardly, mumbling out a greeting.

My face felt like it was on fire as he backed away from me, smiling brightly.

"I'm so glad to have you here," Edward said politely. "Just make yourself at home, you two must be tired."

"I'll show you to the guest room," Anthony said, picking up my bags.

"Goodnight, Bella," Esme said before Anthony and I departed to my room.

"Goodnight!" I called behind me, addressing everyone. I made eye contact with Anthony's father, _Edward_, and flushed slightly.

"There's no adjoining bathroom, but the closest one with a shower is at the end of the hall," Anthony said. "I know that's probably inconvenient for you."

"That's fine," I said, noting Anthony's less excited mood. I figured he was either tired, upset about me not sleeping in his room, or he caught me checking out his dad. I hoped it was the former. Actually, I just hoped it just _wasn't_ the latter.

"Feel free to visit anytime, my room is just two doors down" he said, dropping my bags off in my new room. "_I_ have an adjoining bathroom."

"I'll keep that in mind." I laughed. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said, leaning down to kiss me. "I'm so glad you're here."

"Me too," I whispered. He left my room to say goodnight to the rest of his family, and I could only think about one thing as I collapsed on the soft, luxurious bed.

_This was going to be a long summer._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

I woke up in a cloud.

At least, that's where I thought I woke up.

It took me a moment to realize that I was actually in the Cullen guest room, sleeping on a very soft, very white bed. I kicked off the plush duvet and grabbed my phone off of the nightstand.

It was only half past nine. I was almost expecting it to be noon, I felt so well rested. I gave tribute to the luxurious bed for my great night's sleep.

I stretched my stiff limbs and cracked my neck. A hot shower sounded pretty amazing at the moment. I grabbed the needed toiletries and wandered down the hall, trying to remember where the bathroom was.

The first door I opened belonged to the towel closet. Convenient, but not the door I was searching for. I grabbed one of the fluffy towels and began to execute my search further.

_Didn't he say it was on the end of the hall?_

The door at the very end seemed promising enough, so I hesitantly opened it, peeking my head inside.

Nope. Not the bathroom.

Instead of a shower and toilet, what I came across was a bed and man.

A shirtless man.

At the sound of his door opening, Edward sat up, revealing his naked torso. His sheets pooled around his waist, the thin fabric barely concealing his...

Holy shit.

He was _hard_.

My stomach fluttered and flipped, my eyes glued to his, uh...enlarged member.

_Yeah, that can happen to guys in the morning, Bella, now quit staring_.

I quickly jerked my head up to meet his amused, sleepy eyes. "I, uh, got lost."

"Bathroom?" he assumed, noting my—_his_ towel in my arms.

"Mmhmm," I nodded, biting my lip. I honestly didn't trust my words at this point.

"Last door at the _other_ end of the hall," he said, cocking his head to his right.

I cleared my throat, knowing my voice would probably sound like a prepubescent boy's if I didn't. "Thanks."

"Anytime," he smirked before yawning and stretching.

And that was my cue to leave.

For the duration of my shower, all I could think about was my little encounter with my boyfriend's _father_. I turned the water colder, wondering if that little trick actually worked. I truly was a horrid girlfriend. My relationship skills weren't great to begin with, but now I just felt like the most depraved, unfaithful girlfriend in the world.

Should I ever create a dating profile, my bio would probably go like this: _Hi, my name is Bella. I like rainy days, photography, and eye fucking your attractive family members. I'll verbally abuse you when I deem necessary and put myself first in most situations. Hit me up!_

Yup, that pretty much summed it up.

I decided that I needed to distance myself from Edward as much as I possibly could. I couldn't mess up if I wasn't near him, right? I would stay as far away from him as I could living under his roof.

Of course, I couldn't just outright ignore him.

I would keep an appropriate distance without being rude.

A solution to my problems.

I turned off the water with new found determination. I quickly soaked up the excess water from my hair before wrapping the fluffy towel around my torso and exiting the steamy bathroom.

Within seconds of walking out the door, my plan crumbled.

"Oh, sorry," I said, almost running smack into Edward's chest. Edward's _bare_ chest. I was slightly mortified.

"We've got to stop meeting like this," he said, smirking.

_Like what?_ I almost asked, but then I got it.

Naked.

Naked and barely covered, at least.

"I'll try, but no promises," I blurted, spewing out the first thing that came to mind. Which, in hindsight, is never the best idea.

Edward chuckled softly. "I can live with that."

I felt the heat rise to my cheeks before I stepped around Edward precariously, making sure to not even brush against him.

I wasn't entirely sure, but I think I might have flirted with my boyfriend's dad a bit. And I was even less sure, but I think he might have flirted back.

That or my imagination was having a field day.

I pushed all thoughts of Edward aside as frantically shook the blow-dryer around my hair, drying it quickly. A delicious smell wafted through the air, making my empty stomach grumble. I quickly put on clothes and made my way to the door.

At the last second, I rummaged through my bags to find my makeup bag. I curled my eyelashes and swiped on a little bit of slippery lip gloss.

Because I didn't want Anthony's family to think he brought home a total hag.

I finally left the room and followed the mouthwatering aroma to the source—the Cullen's kitchen.

Edward was sitting at the counter that faced the big, open kitchen where a woman with a messy bun made her way through it.

Her hair was dark brown with hints of gray and her skin lightly tanned. She looked up at me for the first time, her icy blue eyes studying me for a moment. "You're not a vegetarian are you?"

"Um, no?" I said, my statement coming across as a question.

"You look anemic," she noted, her British accent very apparent. She wasn't harsh about it, simply stating an observation. "You need some red meat in you. And some sun, for Lord's sake. This whole family needs sun. Vampires, every one of you."

I glanced at Edward, who simply threw his head back and laughed, a sound that made me smile widely in return. "Bella, this is Bev, our personal critic."

"Nice to meet you," I told her, my voice much more timid than I'd have liked.

"Don't worry, she's this _pleasant_ with everyone," Edward said, his deep green eyes locking intensely with mine. "Well, almost everyone."

Just as the words left his mouth, Bev dropped what she was doing, a huge grin spreading across her previously passive face.

"Anthony! My handsome boy, come here!" she rushed over to him, opening her arms. I jumped in my seat, Anthony's presence like a cold bucket of water, drenching me unceremoniously. I tried to lean away from his father as much as I could, as if we'd been doing something wrong.

Anthony threw his arms around the woman, who was dwarfed next to him. She hadn't seemed very small until then.

"Let me look at you," she said excitedly, taking his face in her hands. "Chicago has done you good, love. You must be swatting the ladies away left and right."

"Nah," Anthony said modestly. "They know I'm taken." He winked at me, the fluttering in my stomach nonexistent, as opposed to when he used to wink at me.

_Or when you walked in on his father this morning_, I told myself, remembering the fluttering was fully present then.

Guilt immediately swept over me as I watched Anthony converse animatedly with his nanny. He hugged her again before they both headed back to where Edward and I were seated. Bev went back to her cooking with a much happier expression and Anthony came to sit beside me. It felt odd being between Anthony and his father, and I realized he should probably be sitting where I was.

I don't think I was the only one to notice, either.

From the stove, Bev looked at me with an arched brow, her face not nearly as friendly.

Heat rose to my cheeks as I looked down, chastising myself for sitting where I had. I felt uncomfortable and a little awkward, hoping Anthony didn't think anything of my seating choice.

I'd always been one to over think things, but this was just getting ridiculous.

"I better call my parents so they know I made it in okay," I told Anthony as I hopped off the tall chair. I continued at in a lower voice, "you can take my seat if you want. I know you probably want to catch up with your dad."

I pecked him on the cheek before retreating to my room. I honestly did need to call my parents, for which I was grateful. I needed not only a distraction, but a reason for leaving the room. I quickly located my phone, scrolling through my call history list to find my mom's cell number.

I didn't use speed dials.

Upon receiving my first touchscreen phone, I found out that speed dials led to butt-dials

_"We really should be studying for midterms," Anthony panted, his voice strained and low._

_"You know everything," I assured him, knowing there was no way he would make anything less than A's on his exams._

_"I-I should write some more notes," he argued again. I knew his halfhearted arguments were more to himself than me. He would give in to the temptation regardless. Men were ruled by their limbic system, they craved instant gratification rather than long term. Most men, at least._

_"You have enough," I assured him, straddling his hips. I lowered myself down to where he wanted me most, sufficiently closing all arguments and protests._

_"Okay," he whimpered. His eyes were focused on my lips, yet he made no move forward to reach them. Almost sighing outwardly, I leaned in to kiss him myself. This boy was oddly submissive, but it was something I could work with._

_Our little session quickly became heated, my moans and light dirty talking seemed to open him up more. He surprised me by placing wet kisses up the side of my neck. I whimpered, my neck being one of my definite weak spots._

_"You like that?" he asked, with what sounded like true curiosity rather than an attempt at sounding sexy._

_"Yes," I moaned, his lips getting higher. "A lot."_

_I heard a faint noise, like a neighbor's TV being turned up too loudly, or someone talking outside the door. I quickly wrote it off, ignoring the sound, focusing all of my attention on the blond man beneath me._

_His hands were tentatively running up and down my sides, making slow progress towards my breasts. I grabbed his unsure hands, placing them directly on the targets. He squeezed softly, looking mesmerized with the fabric covered mounds of flesh in his hands._

_The noise sounded again, this time a little louder and seemingly closer. I paused, holding up a single finger to still Anthony's movements._

_The noise was definitely coming from inside the room, quite close, but very muffled._

_My palms began to sweat as I reached behind me to pull my phone from my back pocket. The volume increased, and individual angry words almost audible._

_"Shit, shit, shit!" I hissed, ending the call without a second thought._

_What a great three and a half minute conversation with Mom._

_I looked up to meet Anthony's wide eyes. I apologized quickly before abruptly leaving the scene. I apologized again before I closed the door behind me, the cold winter air welcome to my overheated face._

I groaned at the horrifying memory. The only thing positive about the situation was that it was my _dad's_ phone that I called, but my mother who picked up. She understood and promised not to tell Dad if I promised to never butt-dial her again.

I shuddered, thinking about what would have happened had my dad been the one to answer the phone. What a shit storm that would've been.

"Hello?" I heard my mother's voice say over the phone.

"Oh, Mom!" I said, hoping she hadn't been on the phone for long. "Hey!"

"Are you in Seattle yet?" she asked, her voice slightly worried. I knew she envisioned my trip to run along the lines of Grand Theft Auto 4, rather than what it actually had been; a long, boring drive with a few bumps along the way. But regardless of my assurances and updates, she still managed to fret over the possibilities of what could happen. She's always been a worrier.

"I got in last night," I assured her. "I'd have called you then, but we got in late. I figured you'd be asleep."

"So how are you liking it there?"

"It's alright," I said, nodding, even though she couldn't possibly see it. "I haven't seen much of the city yet. Anthony's house is huge and his family is really nice."

"That's great, dear," she said, almost automatically.

"I don't think his nanny is very fond of me, though."

"I'm sure she'll warm up to you," my mother said in a kind but distracted voice.

"She's actually downstairs making breakfast... I don't want my food to get cold. Tell Dad that I got in okay and that I'll call him soon."

"Okay, sweetie, love you."

"Love you, too, Mom. Bye," I said before hanging up the phone. We never had particularly long conversations, but it worked for us.

My mother and I have always had a tetchy relationship. We barely spoke during my teenage years, and when we did, we were fighting. I supposed it was normal for mothers and daughters to argue, but we never really made amends after. I loved my mother, and I knew she loved me; we've just never had the easiest relationship. Not like I had with my dad.

In retrospect, I felt bad for the way I treated my mother growing up. I made it clear that I didn't respect her and that my father was the one I was close to. I can't imagine how that must have felt.

My shoulders slouched with the realization that I'd have to go back downstairs soon. I put my big girl panties on and trotted down the stairs. Bev was serving breakfast to Edward and Anthony, who were, unfortunately, in their same seats.

I glanced between the two possible seats, my original one, and the one to the right of Anthony.

Taking a breath in, I casually sat at the far right. Away from Edward.

"Hey babe," Anthony said, turning towards me. "You weren't gone long."

"No, I talked to my mom," I told him, knowing he'd understand. He'd heard our fifteen second conversations first hand.

My seating choice didn't come up while we ate our breakfast. Break_feast_ was more like it, actually. Bev had made almost ever breakfast food imaginable, stuffing us all with her delicious food. She ignored me for the most part, focusing most of her attention on Anthony.

Anthony tried to include me in the conversation, but I couldn't help but feeling like an intruder. He was comfortably talking to his father and nanny, his back slightly angled towards me. He'd turn back around occasionally to talk to me directly, but the feeling of intrusion was hard to ignore.

Bev ended up taking the seat between Edward and Anthony once she had finished in the kitchen. I ate mostly in silence, trying to enjoy the gourmet meal as best I could. Once finished with his food, Anthony grabbed my hand, his slightly sticky fingers curling tightly around mine.

Apparently Anthony had quite the day ahead of him. We were going to his uncle's house around noon, where there was going to be a family reunion of sorts. I wasn't sure what _I'd_ do there, exactly, but I was sure I'd manage.

As we were about to leave, Anthony pulled me into his room. Literally.

"Hey!" I said out of surprise.

"Hello," Anthony said leaning down to kiss me. I met his lips, kissing him with more fervor than I had in a long time.

"We're going to be late," I whispered, pulling away slightly.

His hand gently held my chin in place as he kissed me again. "I don't mind."

He started kissing my neck, giving me an opportunity to look around his room for the first time. It suited him well. His walls were blue and donned an eclectic range of posters; from the infamous picture of Albert Einstein with his tongue sticking out to various band posters, including his favorite, The Decemberists. His bed laid to the far right of the room, making it look even more spacious.

Anthony's lips detached from my neck. He guided me to his bed, sitting me down beside him. The sun was shining brightly into his room, settling on his bed, making it very warm.

"You want to be here, right?" he asked, taking my hand. "I don't even think I gave you time to think about whether or not you actually wanted to come before I started throwing all these plans I'd made for the two of us at you."

"I want to be here," I assured him, squeezing his hand. "You know me, I wouldn't have come if I didn't want to."

"And you don't regret it?"

"Not at all," I told him, meaning it. I was confused and guilty for various reasons, but I was glad I came. I wanted to use this summer to become a better girlfriend. The stress of school and work wouldn't hinder our relationship, so I could focus my attention on learning how to be good enough for the guy I'd somehow snagged.

That is, if I didn't completely fuck things up by hitting on his father.

I didn't even want to think about that. I just hoped my stupid schoolgirl crush on Edward passed soon. Very soon.

The drive to Anthony's uncle's house was uneventful. Edward drove the three of us in his Volvo. I seriously would never have pinned this guy to have a Volvo, but whatever. To each his own, right?

Anthony almost sat in the back with me, but I assured him I'd be fine if he sat up front with his dad. So he did. They talked about people I'd never met and places I'd never heard of. I tuned them out easily, staring mindlessly out the window.

After what felt like maybe fifteen or twenty minutes, I came out of my little reverie. The only sound was a guitar tune that I easily recognized. Glycerine by Nirvana.

I listened to the familiar lyrics, mentally humming along with the tune.

Midway into the song, another voice started belting the lyrics along with Kurt.

"Jesus, Dad, don't you think it's a little early to be exposing Bella to this?" Anthony groaned jokingly, a corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

"Nope," Edward answered, stopping his singing momentarily, "She needs to know what she's getting into."

I looked up into the mirror to find Edward's eyes focused on mine. I blushed, looking away quickly. When I took another glance, Edward's eyes were focused on the road once more.

Edward didn't stay silent for long. By the time the chorus came around, he was singing again, louder than before.

_"Don't let the daaays go by! Glycerine..."_

We pulled into the driveway of a large house. It was slightly smaller and newer looking than Anthony's large Victorian-looking house, but it was still really nice.

_Really _nice. Was this whole family rich?

Edward walked right up to the front door, letting himself in without so much as a knock. They must have been close.

Or maybe Edward was just really intrusive.

I followed Anthony into the house, the sweet aroma of baking encasing me the second I walked in.

"Rose, my Uncle Emmett's wife, is the most _amazing_ cook," Anthony told me. He paused for a second before hastily adding to the sentence. "In my family."

"Nice save," I laughed.

The next few minutes were pure madness.

There were at least twenty people in the house, all of whom flocked Anthony as soon as they got a chance. I was introduced to each one of them, squeaking out a small, "nice to meet you." I was a little intimidated.

Some dotted on me, telling me how "beautiful" or "lovely" I was. I suppressed the urge not to snort. Some paid very little attention to me, focusing solely on Anthony. And some looked me up and down before turning to Anthony and expressing their opinions of me. I found these people to be the most uncomfortable of the bunch.

One man in particular gave me the willies.

He sized me up with a smug expression, taking his sweet time on certain parts of my anatomy. "She's exquisite. _Quite_ the catch."

_Exquisite? Catch?_ What was I, Anthony's girlfriend, or a giant sea bass?

"That was James," Anthony whispered in my ear as soon as he left. "I honestly don't know how we're related, but he seems to keep turning up at these events."

Even though I felt like I had been introduced to the entire state of Washington, more and more people popped up.

"Hey, why don't I show you around, Bella?" Edward suggested, appearing in front of us.

"That sounds great," I breathed, relieved. I honestly didn't know how there were so many people here. This was only one side of his family, after all. I mean, I assumed his mother's family wasn't in his life. I made a note to ask him that later. I turned to Anthony. "Do you mind?"

"Not at all," he sighed. "Just leave me here to fend for myself."

"I will," I retorted, walking away. The crowd thinned out as we made our way away from the living room. "Thanks for saving me."

"T'was my pleasure, miss," he said in a bad cockney accent, making me giggle like a six year old girl. "These things can be a bit overwhelming for first timers. Especially on the arm of Mr. Popular."

"Seriously!" I exclaimed. "He's like a celebrity."

"He's a charismatic kid," Edward nodded.

I looked around the room, taking in the large amount of people once more. "So, um, is this just your side of the family?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Edward said, leaning back against a wall.

"Pretty much?" I questioned. So some of Anthony's mother's family was here, too?

"These people aren't _all_ in the Cullen family," he explained. "These 'family' gatherings are more 'family and friends' gatherings. Maybe one-third of the people in here are related, if that."

"Oh," I said dumbly. "So is Anthony's mom at all... in the picture? I don't mean to pry, but I've just never brought it up with Anthony. Whenever he talks about his family, it's mostly about you or his grandparents. I wasn't sure if it was a sensitive subject, so I guess I just waited for him to tell _me._"

"No," Edward said, cutting off my mini-monologue. "His mother isn't in the picture. He probably wouldn't bring it up, because there's nothing to tell. He's never been curious about her and vice versa."

My heart clenched at his words. "Her loss," I muttered. My words had two meanings, but I decided smartly to keep one to myself.

"Oh, definitely," he agreed. "I couldn't imagine a better kid. She did try to come back into his life once, though."

"You don't have to tell me this," I told him. Even though he was doing the talking, I felt like I was being too nosy.

"Aren't you curious?" he asked, raising a brow.

"Well, yes, b—"

"Then I'll tell you. It's not even a very personal story, and it's not like Anthony would be able to tell you himself."

"Okay then," I said, waving my hand. "Continue your story."

"Let's see, where was I?" he asked rhetorically.

"Right before the beginning, I think," I answered, smirking.

"Right," he said. "_Anyway_, his mother tried to come back when he was six. I had told her from the very beginning that if she was out, she was out for good. When he was born, she signed custody over to my parents, as I was seventeen at the time—"

"_Seventeen_?" I blanched, cutting him off. "I know you look young, but _Jesus_. I guess it makes sense now."

"I look young?" he smirked.

"Obviously," I scoffed. "You had a baby when you _were_ a baby."

"I wasn't a baby," he argued. "I was very mature for my age. After Anthony came I was, at least. So his mother, Kate, had signed all her rights as his mother away, basically. I took care of Anthony as best I could while still going to school. I gave up my social life, heading home right after school and never leaving without Anthony. Even if I had to go to the grocery store or put gas in my car, I took Anthony with me. I hated being away from him any longer than I could. My parents took care of him while I was away at school and continued to support me financially. I don't know what I would have done if they had forced me to get a job. Luckily, they didn't. I graduated a few months before his first birthday. I went to the University of Chicago for college, which only made sense, since the campus wasn't even half an hour away from home. I graduated with honors in four years, right before Anthony turned five.

"I didn't have the typical college experience. I befriended another single dad who really helped me out while I was there. I focused on my son first and my schoolwork second, and had no time for anything else. I was really proud of myself for graduating, finally feeling like I was good enough for my son. Little did I know, Kate was there for my graduation. She found me afterward and tried to approach Anthony, but I stopped her, asking her what the hell she was doing. She told me that she was having second thoughts about her decision and that seeing me graduate made her realize we could have a life together. I told her that she missed out on her chance to have a life with us when she left five years ago."

I stood there, trying to absorb Edward's story, and at the same time trying squash the little pangs of jealousy I was feeling.

Not waiting for me to say anything, Edward continued. "I'm actually really glad she decided not to stay apart of Anthony's life. I don't think anyone would have been nearly as happy if she had. I know that sounds harsh, but the girl was a flake. Never really committing to anything. I don't even think she really wanted to be a part of Anthony's life when she came to my graduation. I heard she had flunked out of college, and I'm sure financial stability was the only thing that drove her there. Needless to say, her presence would have been problematic."

I continued to stand in silence, trying to imagine the whole thing. "Wow," I finally said, not sure what else to say. "And Anthony doesn't know about any of this?"

"If he asked, I would tell him everything he wanted to know. But he's yet to ask," Edward answered.

I stood there, wondering why Anthony had never been curious as to the whereabouts of his mother.

"Hey, I think there are some photo albums in one of the guest rooms," Edward said, motioning for me to follow him. "And what kind of dad would I be if I didn't show all of Anthony's embarrassing baby pictures to his girlfriend?"

"Oh, I can't wait to see these."

The guest room that held the photo albums wasn't actually much of a guest room. There was a huge window with a window seat that stored all the albums. One wall held a large bookshelf, while the other wall had a white leather futon. There was a desk and computer against the wall that held the door and an ornate wooden dresser. It was a medium sized room, but the lack of bed made it look huge.

"There's a story as to why this room is so... oddly furnished," he explained. "But that's for another time."

Edward stifled through album after album before finding on he was content with.

"Take a seat," he said, nodding towards the couch. I did as I was told and occupied the very left corner. "This is a good one."

He flipped open the book to the first page, where a picture of Edward was giving Anthony a bath was glued. The pictures seemed to be all taken around the same time frame, and they were all adorable.

Edward didn't look much older now than he did in the pictures. His face was more masculine now, as well as his build. I hated myself for noticing it, but it was true. Edward, I gathered, was like fine wine; he only got better with age.

Another major difference was his hair. In the pictures, it curled up messily just above his shoulders and was tucked partially behind his ears. It was hot, but so different.

It wasn't hard to guess who he was trying to emulate.

"You really liked Kurt Cobain, huh?" I asked, trying not to laugh.

"I had a mild obsession," he admitted, examining the pictures. "You know Anthony was born on the same day as his daughter, Frances."

"No way," I said, wondering why Anthony never told me.

"Yep. I was... ecstatic. For many reasons. I found out maybe a week after Anthony was born. It's a good thing I hadn't found out earlier, or there's a good chance Anthony's middle name would have ended up being Bean."

"Anthony Bean Cullen," I said, testing the name. "It has a ring to it."

"I think Carlisle suits him better. Besides, I think we can get a tradition going," Edward said, his eyes no longer on the photos, but on me.

"What kind of tradition?"

"I think I could get a never ending cycle of three names going. Well, hypothetically speaking. Give your son your middle name, which is your grandfather's first name, and his middle name your father's name. That's basically how my parents named me, for my father's side of the family, and that's how I named Anthony."

"You have thought way too much about this."

"Wouldn't that be awesome though? Three names. Edward Anthony Cullen, Anthony Carlisle Cullen, and Carlisle Edward Cullen," Edward said, leaning back in the couch. I could tell he _really_ liked this idea.

"What if Anthony doesn't have a son?" I questioned. If Anthony and I stayed together, there was the very real possibility that Edward's little tradition would never take course. Actually, it was more of a certainty.

"Technicalities," Edward shrugged. "Now let's look at more baby pictures."

**-:-**

After going through an entire album, Edward and I realized we should probably be headed back downstairs. It had taken us quite a while to get through the album, as each picture seemed to spur on another conversation or launch another story.

I had gotten to know a lot about Edward and Anthony's family, too. Emmett, Edward's brother, was a huge help to Edward after Anthony had been born. Emmett never partied or experimented in high school, wanting to be a good role model for a very impressionable Anthony. He was the first person to make Anthony laugh, which I'm told he never ceases to remind everyone.

Emmett's wife, Rosalie, is five years younger than him. They got engaged only three months after meeting, married two months later.

When we got back down stairs, there were a lot less people.

"Hey!" Anthony greeted, making his way over to us. "Where have you guys been?"

"Looking at baby pictures." His eyes widened slightly, but he didn't look too embarrassed. I pinched one of his cheeks lightly. "You were so _cute!_"

"And you still are!" Edward said, pinching his other cheek. I laughed as Anthony pursed his lips, smiling slightly.

"Way to make me feel great, guys," he said jocularly.

"What?" Edward questioned, raising his hands in surrender. "Is a man not allowed to dote on his eighteen year old son anymore?"

"It's not exactly the norm," Anthony said, his cheeks tinted pink, making it look like he was blushing. It was almost amusing how easily Anthony's skin marked. He was a little delicate for a man, that's for sure.

"You must be Bella!" I heard from behind me. I whipped my head around to find a huge, hulk of a man with open arms striding towards me. He scooped me up like a rag doll and squeezed the life out of me. Once released from his anaconda-like grip, he set me back down on the ground.

I may or may not have wobbled a little.

"I'm Emmett, Anthony's uncle!" he explained, still grinning.

Well, I see where Anthony got his perpetual good mood from. I quickly cleared my throat and lifted my chin so I could meet his eyes. "Nice to meet you. I've heard a _lot_ about you."

"All good, right?" he asked, already knowing that answer.

"All great," I said, laughing a little. His positive attitude was infectious.

"Great!" he said, focusing on something behind me. "Here comes my wife, Rosalie."

I watched as a woman who could undoubtedly make supermodels feel self-conscious join us, taking her place next to Emmett. She smiled kindly at me, her brilliantly white teeth on display.

I tied to return her smile, but the curling of my upper lip probably came across as a sneer or grimace more than anything else. I felt the overwhelming urge to hide my face with my hair and run to the bathroom to apply more makeup, as if I were still in high school.

"Lovely to meet you, Bella," she said, her voice even perfect. "I've heard so many wonderful things about you."

"You as well," I said in a small voice. "Your home is beautiful."

"Thank you," she said graciously. "We're having the barbeque soon, why don't you guys come outside?"

We followed her into her huge, and I mean _huge_, backyard.

Well, I realized where the crowd had gone.

There were three grills set up with a mountain of barbeque food beside them. People lounged in the sun, sipping their drinks and talking to one another. This was definitely a sociable family.

"Ed, Ant, come help me grill," Emmett said, nodding towards the grill station.

"Will you be okay?" Anthony asked as his dad and uncle left. "Not that you won't be okay without me, but if you're not comfortable since you don't know anyone very well, I'll stay with you."

"I'll be fine, thanks," I assured him. "Now go grill. Just remember, I like my burgers well done. Red meat grosses me out."

"Technically, it's still red meat," he retorted. "Just over-cooked red meat."

"You know what I mean." I rolled my eyes playfully at him.

"One charred, blackened burger coming right up," he quipped.

"Just how I like it!"

Anthony left, taking the grill between his uncle and father. They immediately jumped into conversation, talking and laughing. Anthony obviously loved his family. I wondered why he chose a college so far away.

"Would you like something to drink?" Rosalie asked. Her voice was no longer dripping with sweetness, but more casual now.

"Sure," I said, nodding.

"I'll be right back with that. I think I'm going to set up a cooler out here, so it might be a few minutes," she told me.

"Would you like any help with that?" I offered.

"That'd be great." She smiled genuinely now, unlike the intimidating smile she donned when I had met her.

I followed her inside and started crushing the bags of ice as she went to retrieve the coolers. We dumped the ice into the insulated cubes before setting various drinks, mostly alcoholic, inside.

It took the two of us to carry just one cooler outside. I knew they would be heavy, but I wasn't expecting their weight to rival that of a couch. I was already working up a light sweat by the time the second one was set up.

"Thanks for the help," Rosalie said, grabbing a water out of the container. I did the same, as I was extremely thirsty, and most likely would chug whatever I opened, and I decided I didn't really want to chug anything carbonated or alcoholic.

Rosalie took big sips of her water, while I gulped mine down like I've been stranded in the dessert for months. I forced myself to stop when the plastic started crinkling.

"Thirsty?" Rosalie chuckled, looking amused. My embarrassment grew as I twisted the cap back onto the water.

"A bit," I admitted.

In that moment, Edward, Anthony, and Emmett came to join us. They each had an armload of plates filled with delicious smelling food.

"For you," Anthony said, holding out a plate with a burger on it. I dove right into it, taking a huge bite. Today has just been filled with good food, as opposed to the three days filled with junk.

"Thank you," I said once I swallowed.

Edward grabbed a beer from the cooler, twisting the lid of easily. Anthony reached in and grabbed a beer and wine cooler from the large container, but Emmett quickly snatched the bottles from his hand, holding them high above his own head.

"I don't think I can condone underage drinking," he taunted jokingly. "I just wouldn't be able to live with myself."

"I'm close enough," I said, standing on my tiptoes, reaching towards the drinks.

"Oh yeah?" Emmett challenged, standing on _his_ tiptoes to heighten himself further. "And how old are you, Miss College Freshman?"

"I'll be twenty-one in September, Mister _Gentle Giant_," I said, remembering the nickname Anthony told me about. Laughter erupted from the small group.

"Low blow," Emmett said, feigning hurt. "But I suppose you are close enough to legal drinking age for me to allow you this one drink."

He handed me the wine cooler, but held tight to the beer.

"I think that one was for Anthony," Rose joked, referring to my wine cooler, earning another round of laughter.

"Very funny," Anthony said, reaching into the cooler to grab another beer, popping the lid off, and taking a swig, all the while keeping his eyes on Emmett.

"Touche, nephew," Emmett said, uncapping the beer he had originally been holding hostage.

The grilling had been taken over by others as Edward, Emmett, and Anthony hung out and enjoyed their food.

"Hey guys," a high pitched voice sounded. The source was a very pretty, very _short_ girl. She looked about my age and was wearing a large smile. No doubt related to the Cullens. She looked at me and her smile grew larger. "You must be Bella! How have we not been introduced yet? I'm Alice!"

"Alice," I repeated, remembering Anthony talking about her occasionally. "It's nice to meet you."

"Alice is my soon to be sister-in-law," Rosalie explained proudly.

"Jasper hasn't proposed yet, Rosie," Alice said, hip-bumping Rosalie playfully.

"It's only a matter of time," she sighed, her eyes trained on the grills, where I assumed her brother was.

I determined I liked Alice right off the back. As it turned out she wasn't related to the Cullens, yet, but she had a charismatic personality that just drew people in.

Not too long after Alice arrived, a blond man came striding over with two plates in hand. I assumed this was Jasper. His resemblance to Rosalie was quite noticeable. They shared similar blonde, wavy hair and piercing blue eyes. Not only that, but the bone structure was similar between the two, as well, even though Rosalie's facial structure was undoubtedly more feminine.

I got to know some more people much more personally, rather than a quick introduction like earlier. Carlisle and Esme showed up after not too long, apologizing for their tardiness. They were just as delightful as the night before, if not more so.

The sun set quickly, causing the temperature to drop dramatically. I couldn't believe how long we had been there. The day passed by so quickly.

The barbeque ended with dessert, a wonderful assortment of baked good mostly provided by Rosalie. Anthony was right about her baking skills. The food was phenomenal. While I had escaped the freshman 15, I had no doubt I would be gaining a little weight this summer.

Edward, Anthony, and I were some of the last few people to leave, with only Alice and Jasper remaining. The sun was fully set by the time we reached the house, and I was drained.

"I had so much fun," I told Anthony after I changed out of my clothes and into my pajamas. I had sweat a little in them, and was eager to put on something clean and comfortable. "Your family is amazing."

"They're not too bad," he said, smiling. "I'm really glad you enjoyed yourself. And I'm even gladder that you like my family, since you'll most likely be seeing a lot more of them."

"I can't wait," I told him honestly. We were lounging on the couch, watching some movie on TV. I yawned big, my eyes watering. "I think I'm going to wash up and go to bed."

"In the guest room?" he asked.

"In the guest room," I confirmed. "It's just weird, you know? I mean, it's your childhood bed... and your dad is right down the hall." I blushed at those words, remembering my morning intrusion. I hoped Anthony didn't notice.

"It's not like we _have_ to have sex," he said, smirking.

"It would be assumed," I reminded him. I wasn't really a prude, but for some reason, the thought of Edward knowing how close Anthony and I were made me oddly uncomfortable.

"Okay," he said, dismissing the subject. "But please let me know if you change your mind."

"I will," I said, feeling guilty. I was almost pushing Anthony away. That wasn't my conscious intention, but I was pretty sure that's what I was doing. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight, babe," he said. I could feel his eyes on me as I walked away. I turned around, smirking when I caught his glance.

I got my face wash and toner from my bag, trying to decide whether or not I should leave them in the bathroom. I _was_ going to be here a while. It only made sense to leave my toiletries in the bathroom.

I washed my face and brushed my teeth quickly. I ended up leaving my toiletries in the bathroom, which made me feel just a little more at home here.

As I walked back to my room, I heard a voice call out to me.

"Hey, Bella, can I talk to you for a second?"

-:-

**Three guesses as to who ****_that_** **was. ;)**

**Sorry about the confusion with the EPOV outtake for the previous chapter. It's been posted on my profile if anyone wants to take a gander, and I'll probably be posting more outtakes there as the story progresses.**

**I was absolutely blown away with the response to the last chapter. You guys are awesome! All of you. Even you silly non-reviewers. This time, reviewers get a little teaser.**


	5. Chapter 5

**Writer's block and real life decided to team up and kick my ass. But, alas, here's a new chapter.**

Chapter Five

_As I walked back to my room, I heard a voice call out to me._

_"Hey, Bella, can I talk to you for a second?"_

I whipped my head around to see Edward sticking his head out of his office.

"Sure," I answered, walking slowly over to him. For the second time today, I felt like the self-conscious teenager I once was. My face was tinged pink from just washing it, and frankly I didn't feel very pretty.

Not that it mattered, of course.

Edward closed the door behind me, taking a seat behind his desk. I sat on the opposite side of his desk, and it reminded me of being sent to the principal's office.

_Are you going to punish me, Principal Cullen? I've been rather naughty._

No, no, no. I didn't need my thoughts going there.

_Not principal, headmaster. That's even sexier._

A vision of Edward taking a ruler to my plaid covered ass popped into my head. I bit my lip, finding it hard to even look Edward in the eyes now. Here I was having naughty schoolgirl fantasies about him while he was talking to me about...

Shit.

What exactly _was_ he talking to me about?

He was looking at me expectantly. A look at which I had no idea how to respond.

"I'm sorry," I said quietly, my embarrassment growing. "I didn't catch that."

"I was just wondering if you'd like to come with us to our summer house in a couple of weeks," he explained. "I don't know if Anthony has told you, but we have a family island off the coast of South America—"

"You have an _island_?" I asked, dumbfounded.

"A small one, yes. A wedding present from my grandparents to my mom and dad. So are you on board?" he paused, snickering slightly. "Literally."

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," I said, picturing the luxurious private island. The concept was foreign to me, I didn't know people actually had those in real life, but it sounded like a sweet deal.

"Great," he said, leaning back in his seat. "You're going to love it there."

"An exotic private island?" I asked rhetorically. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure I will."

I took a look around his office, not really having checked it out before. It was fairly large, and musical instruments resided on the walls and in the corners. Pictures of instruments hung on the walls, they were all very... well,_ pretty_ wasn't exactly the right word.

The furnishing was mahogany, giving the room a rich, dark look. It suited Edward. "You're in the music industry, I take it?"

Edward smiled, looking around the office himself. "Yeah. I own a musical instrument design and manufacturing company."

"Oh, yeah," I said. "I think I remember Anthony telling me that."

He nodded absentmindedly, fixing his eyes on one of the photographs. His eyes came to rest on me again, a hint of amusement shining through. "Try not to sound too impressed."

"I'm not very instrument savvy," I admitted. "But I take it your instruments are... high-end, I guess?"

"They're pretty widely used, yes," he said, no arrogance in his voice. "I started designing instruments that would maximize the sound quality and strength of the music in college, but I never thought I would gain any success from it."

"That's great that you're so passionate in what you do," I said, a little in awe of him.

"I am lucky," he nodded. "I originally wanted to be a doctor, but with the years of training and demanding hours, I decided to go a different route. So what about you? What are your plans for the future?"

"None, as of yet," I informed him. "I'm majoring in History. I have no idea what the hell I'm going to do with that."

"You could be hot librarian like Evelyn Carnahan," he winked, making my cheeks grow warm.

"The Mummy?" I questioned, biting the inside of my cheek to keep from smiling. Edward had, in a sense, called me hot.

"Of course," he said, jokingly rolling his eyes.

"I wanted to be an Archaeologist after I saw that movie," I admitted. "I went through this whole ancient Egyptian phase. I even tried to find a class for learning hieroglyphics."

Edward laughed, causing me to smile in return. I tried to hide it by encasing my bottom lip between my teeth. "And how did that work out for you?"

"Hieroglyphics? Not as popular as you'd think," I informed him.

"Really," he deadpanned. "And here I thought it was a thriving language."

"You and me both," I said. I glanced at the analog clock on his wall, noting the time. I couldn't believe it was almost midnight already. Today had been insanely long.

"It's getting kind of late," Edward said, as if he'd read my mind. Or, caught me looking at his clock.

"It is," I agreed, yawning. "I don't think I've adjusted to Seattle time quite yet."

"Time zones are a bitch," he agreed. "Now let's go to bed."

"Is that an invitation?" I blurted. I mentally smacked my forehead, wondering what the hell possessed me to say that. I removed my palm from my face, realizing I actually _had_ smacked my forehead. "I'm sorry, I don't even—"

"It was a joke," Edward said, waving it off. "I got it, don't worry."

"Right," I agreed, my voice barely above a whisper. My eyes were trained on the floor as I got up and made my way to the door. "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," he said softly from behind me. I retreated to my room and collapsed onto the bed.

If this was any indication as to how the rest of the summer would go, I wasn't so sure I'd survive it.

I needed to learn some fucking self-control, that's for sure.

I hated myself for doing this to Anthony. Even though he wasn't aware of it, I was being completely unfaithful. While he was too busy the perfect boyfriend.

Obviously, my plan to stay away from Edward failed miserably. Not only would that be near impossible due to the living arrangements, but I felt oddly drawn to him. It sounded clichéd and severely stupid even in my mind, but there was an undeniable attraction between us.

On my end, at least. The attraction could very well be unrequited. I had a feeling Edward felt at least a small something for me, but I didn't want to delude myself into anything.

I cut off the lights and tried desperately to fall asleep.

-:-

I awoke groggy and twisted in covers. Needless to say, my sleep had been less than satisfactory.

I got up to get a cup of coffee before showering, knowing I'd likely fall asleep under the heated water.

Stumbling almost all the way down, I finally made it to the kitchen. To my delight, there was already a pot of coffee brewing. The smell filled my nostrils, waking me up just slightly.

"There's an espresso maker, too," a gruff voice said from behind me. I jumped, only to find myself facing a tired and freshly woken Edward.

"Too long," I huffed out in a cavewoman-like manor, waiting for the coffee pot to fill. My traitorous eyes traveled to where Edward was standing, clad in a gray tee shirt and flannel pants. Both of which looked clean and unwrinkled, might I add.

I'd be willing to bet he just put them on.

I bit my lip, imagining him _without_ the pajamas. Like when I had walked into his bedroom the previous morning.

But I'd be lying if I said I was imagining the sheet there, too.

He came closer, snapping me out of my lustful reverie. He grabbed two mugs from a cupboard above my head and set them on the counter. Without a word, he began pouring coffee into both mugs.

"Sugar?" he asked, keeping his eyes on the liquid before him.

"Please," I said. "Cream, too."

He handed me my coffee and picked up his. "Cheers."

I clinked my mug lightly against his, as to not spill any of the scalding beverage.

We sipped our coffee in silence, still not entirely awake. I tried my hardest not to slurp, even slightly, but the coffee was still too hot to just gulp down. The sound permeated through the room, making me cringe. Edward, on the other hand, was making _no_ sounds with his coffee.

I stopped drinking, mentally willing my coffee to cool down a few degrees.

Like that would actually do anything.

Edward finished his coffee before me and set his dish in the sink. "Breakfast?" he asked.

"Isn't Bev going to make it?" I asked.

"She gets the weekends off," he told me. "Although I wouldn't be surprised if she makes an appearance later today, since Anthony is home."

_Great._ That woman didn't like me, and I didn't like her right back.

To think I was going to ask her how to make some of Anthony's favorite dishes. I'm sure she'd just give me some disastrous recipe in hopes that Anthony would dump me over it.

"I think I'll pass on breakfast," I told him, figuring I'd just grab something small later. "But thanks. I think I'll just take a shower now."

"Is that an invitation?"

I blanched, balking at him as he stood before me smirking. I let out a breath when I realized he was making fun of me. I opened my mouth to say something, but nothing came out.

"Oh. Is _that_ an invitation?" he asked, nodding towards my wide open mouth.

I snorted in a truly ladylike fashion before rolling my eyes. "You wish."

As I walked away, I could have _sworn_ I heard him mutter "pretty much," but I chalked it up, once again, to wishful thinking.

As I was in the shower, I heard a knock on the door. I wasn't sure why anyone would be knocking. The running water should be enough to let anyone know the restroom was occupied. I tentatively called out to whoever was at the door. "Yes?"

"Bella, it's Anthony. Can I come in?"

"Um... in the shower?" I asked, confused as to what his intentions were.

"Unfortunately, no," he chucked, opening the door on his own accord.

A rush of cool air alerted me to the fact that he had opened and closed the door. I could only assume he was in the bathroom with me now. "What's up?"

"I'm meeting a few friends from high school," he told me, his voice much clearer. "Did you want to come along? I can tell them I'll be a little late if you want to get ready. I really want you to meet them."

"Oh, that's fine," I told him. "I'll let you guys catch up. Maybe I'll meet them next time."

"Okay," he answered. "I'll see you in a few hours."

"Alright," I said. I briefly wondered how long Anthony had been up. And what time it was. I hadn't checked my phone yet. "What time is it?"

"About eleven-thirty," he answered. I didn't know how long I'd been in the shower, or exactly when I had gotten up. I supposed it didn't really matter.

"Thanks," I said. "I'll see you later."

Without another word, he left the bathroom, leaving me to my shower. I finished up quickly enough, deciding I should probably get ready for the day. It was, after all, almost noon.

It was a little past twelve when my hair was dried and I felt presentable. I figured I'd be back to my routine of wet buns and no make-up when I began to feel a bit more comfortable here. Which might take a while.

I wasn't really sure how to occupy my time until Anthony got back. It wasn't like I was stuck here, seeing as how I had my Jeep with me. Then again, I was completely unfamiliar with the area, so there wasn't a lot I could do.

My stomach made its presence known, growling loudly. I ventured down to the kitchen, my tummy leading the way. From what I'd seen, the Cullens had damn _good_ food, and I was eager to get my hands on it.

I opened the well-stocked fridge and reveled at the colorful selection of food.

_Goodbye days of rummaging through empty cupboards only to find moldy bread and stale Wheat Thins._

I grabbed the huge, juicy looking strawberries and a few other appealing items. God, I was going to eat good this summer.

Great. Now I could add 'mooch' to my list of _terrific_ qualities.

I leaned on the counter as I ate my food. I nearly choked when Edward came around the corner, clad in a University of Chicago tee shirt and dark jeans that hung low on his hips. I licked my lips in what I could only imagine was a hungry, possibly creepy, way. His hair was a shade or two darker and damp from his shower.

A mental image of Edward naked in the shower, water cascading over his fuckhot body rammed into my brain like a freight train. I almost asphyxiated, again, from the picture in mind.

It was official. This man would be the death of me.

"I'm surprised Anthony didn't drag you with him to parade you around to all his friends," Edward said, snapping me out of my train of dirty thoughts.

I scoffed at him. "I'm hardly anything to parade around."

"I'd beg to differ," Edward argued.

"I'm not!" I contended. I knew I wasn't hideous, but I wasn't exactly a trophy wife—er, girlfriend—either.

"Please. You're beautiful and charming, the whole family loves you."

I was damn lucky that nothing was in my mouth, because I had no doubt I would be choking if there had been. I recovered quickly and regained my composure. "Thanks. You're not so bad yourself."

"I know," he smirked, his voice playfully cocky. "Where do you think Anthony gets it from?"

"Carlisle," I quipped.

"Ah, yes," Edward said, a faraway look in his eyes. "A high school girlfriend of mine, Tanya, I think her name was, had a huge crush on Carlisle. Shamelessly flirted with him every time she was near him. At first I thought it was to make me jealous, which it did. Esme, too, I think. Even though she'll never admit to that. Anyway, when I noticed she was interested in much more than just making me jealous, I broke up with her. She then proceeded to try to seduce my father."

My stomach dropped as he told his story. I was definitely no stranger to the plot of his little anecdote. "That sucks. How did you handle it?"

"Well, my ego was pretty banged up," he chuckled. "But I got over it quickly enough."

"That's good," I said, wondering why Edward had shared that story. He wasn't trying to tell me something, was he? Did he _know_ about my little crush on him? Was he subtly warning me to not be such a mind-cheating whore?

_Mind-cheating? More like mind-molesting. Or mind-peeping. That sounds _slightly _less offensive._

"How did Carlisle react?" I asked, suddenly very curious.

"He was kind of flattered," Edward said. "More so than he let on, I think. He was mindful of Esme and my feelings, but his ego was a little inflated."

I couldn't help but assume Edward was relating that situation to the one currently at hand. I had no idea how much he knew about my feelings towards him, but I've never been very good at masking them.

"So any big plans for today?" Edward asked, changing the subject.

"Not one," I answered. "I thought maybe Anthony could give me a tour of his hometown, but I should have figured he'd be in high demand."

"I could give you a—the car with GPS," he said. "You know, if you wanted to find anything specific."

"Oh, thanks," I said, a little disappointed. I could have sworn he was going to offer to give me a tour himself. "I have navigation on my phone, so I'll be fine."

He let out a deep breath, placing both hands on his hips. I giggled at his Wonder Woman-esque stance. "Great. Well, if you need anything, I'll be around here somewhere. Doing something or other."

"Big day," I said, nodding once. "I actually think I'm going to go for a run."

"Have fun with that," he called before leaving the room.

I didn't even _try_ to stand there and figure out the enigma that was Edward Cullen. Instead, I rinsed my plate and headed up to my temporary room to put on my running gear and iPod.

Once my hair was pulled back, my Pumas were tied tight, my boobs were securely tucked into my white razor back, and my iPod was attached safely to my arm, I headed out the door to start my run.

I hated running.

It was horrible for so many reasons, but it did its job. It toned and tightened my shit up, which was all I could really ask for.

Plus, it did kind of clear my head.

I pushed myself harder, my speed picking up. I could already feel myself starting to perspire heavily, the sweat dripping down in beads.

It was hot and humid, not even a breeze in the air to cool me down.

A cold shower sounded absolutely amazing.

After a half hour of mindless running, my muscles felt like jelly and I was completely lost.

I pretty much followed the pavement, so I didn't think I wouldn't have a hard time getting back.

I planted myself on the edge of the curb and wished I had remembered to bring water. I was parched.

I jumped into the air with energy I didn't think I had as a loud clap of thunder sounded. I turned my gaze towards the sky, noting the ominous darkness that cast a veil over the once blue sky.

Maybe I'd get some water after all.

I decided the thunder was a signal for me to get back. I just hoped I'd be back in time to escape the approaching downpour.

Ten minutes later, I was soaked.

Cold, heavy droplets of water saturated me thoroughly as I jogged back to where I _hoped_ the Cullen house was. Because I wasn't one-hundred percent sure I was even going the right direction.

A set of headlights appeared before me, nearly blinding me. I squinted and carried on, the rain pelting down even harder.

Fuck, was that _hail?_

The tiny pellets of ice falling before me confirmed my suspicions.

Just perfect.

The car with the glaring headlights honked at me. I raised my hand to give the dry, perverted bastard the finger, but stopped short when I recognized the car.

A Volvo.

The driver's window rolled down, revealing none other than Edward. "Need a lift?"

"Uh, yeah, that would be nice," I said, squinting against the rain and hail that was currently attempting to pulverize me. "I might ruin your interior, though."

"Just get in," he said with a roll of his eyes, nodding towards the passenger's seat.

I jogged around the front of his car and hopped eagerly into the awaiting vehicle.

It was warm_._

Edward leaned behind him and grabbed a large blanket.

"Is that clean?" I asked with my eyebrows raised, but I couldn't stop my lips from curling upwards, ruining my serious façade. But come on, a back seat blanket?

"Yes it's _clean_," he sneered playfully, tossing the blanket onto me. "I grabbed it from the closet, pervert."

I wrapped the thick material around me tightly. I hadn't even noticed I was shivering until I brought my shaky fingers up to grasp at the fabric. I observed the insane weather from the safety of the inside of the car. "What the hell is wrong with this weather?"

"Seattle weather can be a little... temperamental," he reasoned. "And unpredictable."

"And fucking weird," I grumbled. What kind of day begins with clear blue skies and ends in _hail?_

Not that the day is over yet. No, there's still time for a windstorm and volcano and maybe a forest fire or two.

Stupid weather.

As it turned out, I was on the right track to getting back to the house. And I wasn't too far away, either.

Although I _was_ thankful that I didn't have to make it all the way back. Hail didn't make the most pleasant atmosphere.

"Thanks for rescuing me," I said as he let me in through the front door.

"No problem," he said, flashing me his unrealistically white teeth.

"I think I am in need of a scalding hot shower." The air conditioned house obviously didn't get the memo that _ice_ was falling from the sky outside, so I became even colder. I raced to the upstairs bathroom, tempted to peel my soaking wet clothes off along the way, like I usually would have done, but Edward being there made me rethink that idea.

I stripped as soon as I had the bathroom door closed and turned on the hot water. The steam began to fill the room quickly, and I unhesitatingly jumped inside.

"Oh!" I gasped, trying to jump out of the way of the near boiling water. A string of unintelligible mumbles and curses left my lips as the water burned my flesh.

I shot my arm out to adjust the temperature of the water, which made facing the heated water inevitable. I became less tense as the water began to cool.

My poor body. I was bound to catch pneumonia at this rate.

I finished with my shower quickly, longing for nothing more than to be dry.

_Which definitely isn't going to happen with Edward around_, I grumbled internally. I snickered at my immature train of thought. It was true, though. My body certainly did react to Edward, whether I wanted it to or not.

I decided to let my hair air dry, not wanting to bother with the pesky, loud blow dryer. One could deal with that thing only so many times a day.

A pair of yoga pants and an old cotton tee shirt seemed heavenly at the moment. I rummaged through my bags before coming across the specific items I had in mind.

Screw looking pretty. It's not like perfectly coiffed hair and nice clothes would make Edward suddenly interested in me.

It's not like I wanted him to be.

This whole 'Man vs. Self' persona that I had recently taken on was getting quite tiring.

I wandered aimlessly through the halls of the great house before winding up in a little alcove hidden towards the back of it. There was a huge plasma screen TV projecting the latest Call of Duty game and a black leather couch seated not two feet away from it. Pool, fuse ball, and ping pong tables also resided in this little room.

_I think I just stumbled across Edward's man cave._

I walked deeper into the room, observing it closely. A half-sized fridge was settled in the corner, filled with beer, I assumed.

"Jesus Christ!" I heard, causing me to spin around. I faced a startled looking Edward with a huge mess at his feet.

"Sorry," I apologized, grimacing slightly. I made my way over to where he was crouched, picking up his spilled Doritos. "Let me help."

"You can help," he said pointedly, sounding irritated, "by getting more chips."

I glared at his amused face, a little angry for making me think _he_ was angry. I made my way back to the kitchen and filled an even larger bowl up with the cheesy, salty snack.

The floor Doritos were all back in their original bowl and sitting on the surface of one of the various tables that dwelt in the room. Edward grabbed the bowl from me and stuffed a few chips into his mouth. "Wanna play?"

A few minutes later, we were both absorbed in the game, shouting and cursing over every victory and defeat.

"Fucking grenade!" Edward bellowed, throwing his hands in the air.

I snuck habitual glances over at Edward, and I had to admit, he looked damn hot when riled up. The tendons in his neck stuck out and his muscles flexed and tensed with every move.

Not to mention I got just a little riled up myself from hearing him shout _fuck_ so many times.

"Oh shit, did you fucking see that?" he exclaimed, rising in his seat slightly. He turned towards me just as I turned my attention back onto the screen.

"Hell yeah!" I shouted, not actually sure of what I had just 'seen'. I figured that was an appropriate enough response for whatever it had been.

I lost track of time as we continued to play. My head began to hurt, but I happily ignored it. I was on a fucking role.

I began to squirm as we carried on, the pressure on my bladder getting uncomfortable. I didn't want to get up, but I also didn't want to pee all over Edward's couch. I'd like to think I had a little more control than that, but I didn't want to take any chances.

I excused myself to try and find the nearest bathroom. There was still so much of this house I was unfamiliar with.

"Oh!" I said, spotting Anthony lounging on the couch. I hadn't realized he had come back.

"Hey, babe," he said, getting up from his seat.

"How long have you been back?" I asked, wondering what the time was.

"A few minutes," he answered as I caught a glance at the large analog clock, marked with roman numerals. It took me a second to figure out that it was almost four in the afternoon. I had completely lost track of time.

"Did you have fun catching up?"

"Yeah, it was nice. Like old times," he said, his smile looking somewhat forced. I dismissed it and started looking around for where a restroom could be.

"Is there a bathroom down here?" I asked, practically bouncing in place.

"Right back there," Anthony said, pointing towards a door I had completely missed.

I thanked him quickly before dashing towards the door.

When I finished in the bathroom, I headed back out in the living room to find that Anthony was nowhere to be seen. I heard explosions and shouts coming from the den, so I figured Anthony had taken my place in the game. I didn't mind, really. I headed back upstairs to find something to occupy my time.

I grabbed my copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray and settled down on the window seat.

I've always wanted to read on a window seat.

It was still raining outside and the droplets streamed down the window, creating a relaxing atmosphere. I got lost in the words of Oscar Wilde and barely noticed the sky above me darkening. The words were still visible on the creamy paper, but the room had grown noticeably darker. I set my book down on the ledge as I got up to stretch my limbs. I cracked my back, the multiple pops resounding through the otherwise silent room.

I brought my fingers to my mouth, ready to bite my slowly growing nails. I stopped just short of my teeth. Biting my nails was a terrible habit I've had since I could remember. I've tried stopping every now and then, but it's hopeless. I always go back to it. My nails were just past the pads of my fingers now, and I didn't want to start all over again.

Painting my nails usually helped remind me not to bite.

I grabbed my favorite bright red nail polish from my bag. It was a sexy, blood red color that I was in love with. I've never been one for red nails, I always thought they looked just a bit tacky, but the right shade combined with the right length of nails, was perfect. I moved to turn the lamp on and open my window. It wasn't raining anymore, so I figured there would be no harm in opening it.

I shoved it upwards, but it didn't budge.

I pushed harder, but the most it gave me was a creaking sound. It was unlocked, so that wasn't the problem.

It gave another groan as I used all my strength to try to pry the damned thing open.

Nothing.

It was stuck. Painted shut, I presumed.

With a sigh, I took my nail polish and headed down stairs. I couldn't stand the fume of nail polish, especially in confined areas. The wide space of the living room would undoubtedly make the scent less pungent.

I sprawled myself out on the living room floor and began to paint. I wasn't sure where Anthony or Edward were, but I just hoped they wouldn't mind the smell.

I absentmindedly painted, not really thinking about anything in particular. I decided to give my self loathing a break and think about neither Edward nor Anthony. They would have to wait. I went to dip the brush back into the polish.

Only, I missed.

"Oh my god!" I shouted. "No, no, no!"

I stared at the bright red stain, watching it spread across the wood floor.

At least it's wood, right?

I prayed that the nail polish wouldn't completely ruin the beautiful blonde wood. I scrambled to find the nail polish remover and cotton balls. Once thoroughly drenched, I started wiping up the spilled red varnish, only making it messier.

I went through cotton ball after cotton ball, furiously scrubbing at the red stain. It wasn't coming out. I had gotten the excess paint up, but the stain was still evident.

My eyes started to water when I realized there was no hope. Tears fell onto the red stained floor. I didn't know why this was making me so upset, but the tears were flowing freely now.

"Bella?" I heard a voice call from behind me. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," I said, trying to sound as normal as possible. I knew it was Edward behind me, and I didn't want him to see the stain or me crying.

"Convincing," he deadpanned. "But really, what's wrong?"

"I, uh, ruined your floor," I sniffled, wiping my eyes.

Edward crouched next to where I was, inspecting the damage. "Oh yeah, that's ruined. Beyond repair."

"Real nice," I scoffed, recognizing his playful sarcasm.

"The floor is fine," Edward assured me. I didn't really believe it, the stain was severe, but his comfort was welcome.

"I'm really sorry," I apologized, gathering the red, damp cotton balls.

"It's not a problem," he said, helping me pick up my mess.

We stood up, facing each other. Edward looked pained for a moment before wiping any traces of wetness from beneath my eyes. His touch made my stomach flutter and my skin tingle. Everything I was feeling was too hard to smother.

I didn't realize I had dropped a handful of cotton balls until Edward reached down to pick them up. I joined him, scooping up my mess yet again. "Thank you," I muttered, not daring to look up at him.

With that, I left the room as quickly as I could.

Without a second thought, I sought out Anthony. I hadn't seen very much of him, and I could use his comfort.

He was in his room, surfing the web when I found him.

"What's wrong?" he asked immediately, noticing that I had been crying.

"I'm a walking disaster," I answered with a roll of my eyes. "I don't know how you've put up with me for so long."

"Because you're amazing," he answered, pulling me onto his lap. "And completely worth the odd small catastrophe."

"Thanks," I snorted. "At least I'm worth the disaster I bring along."

"Are you hungry?" he asked suddenly, surprising me slightly. "I'm hungry. Let's order pizza."

"Oh-_kay_," I said, a little thrown off by his weird behavior.

He ordered the pizza and we went downstairs to wait for it. He popped in one of my favorite movies, Repo Men, as we waited.

We watched in rapt silence, well _I_ was watching in rapt silence. I didn't think Anthony was quite as fond of the movie, but we had pretty different tastes.

"Repo Men? I love this movie," Edward said as he emerged from wherever he had been. He plopped down on the couch, right next to Anthony. Not a minute after he took his seat, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Anthony said, removing his arm from my shoulder to grab his wallet.

I glanced over at Edward to catch him staring unabashedly at me. I was caught in his gaze, frozen almost. I was promptly broken from my trance when came back in with a large pizza in his arms, the aroma nothing short of mouthwatering.

I ate two slices, and left the rest to Edward and Anthony. They devoured the pizza like starving wolves.

As soon as the movie ended, I unfurled myself from the couch, careful not to be too rough, as my feet and legs were in Anthony's lap. I've made that mistake before, and Anthony has paid for it.

That night, my dreams were filled with a confusing mixture of fact and fiction.


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6

I was exhausted. Dead on my feet.

Well, on my ass, really.

I just survived my first shopping experience with the little tiny mass of sheer, unwavering energy that is Alice Brandon. Seven hours. Two malls, an outlet, and one outside 'upscale urban shopping center' in downtown Seattle.

The entire back of Emmett's giant ass Hummer was filled almost to the brim with shopping bags. It was a little hazardous, really. I could hardly see a thing behind me. That combined with the fatigue I was feeling made for somewhat dangerous driving.

Rosalie was passed out under a mountain of bags while Alice was singing loudly along to songs on the shopping playlist she had on her iPod.

Yes, the woman had a playlist for shopping.

The sun was sinking lower in the sky, marking the end of an insane day of shopping.

The reason Alice called for the expedition was the fast approaching trip to Isle Cullen. We would be leaving in three days, and when Alice found out that I only had one bathing suit, she nearly had an aneurism before telling me she would have to remedy my issue as soon as possible.

Now I had nine. Alice was thorough, if nothing else.

At first, I thought I'd get maybe a bikini or two. Possibly a new pair of shorts. I mean, I didn't have a lot of money to spare. Not to mention I was still saving for tuition and books and rent for the upcoming years.

I certainly didn't think that this trip would be all expenses paid.

Alice paid for everything that she picked out for me. Which was pretty much everything.

She, at least, left me some of my dignity and let me buy my own lunch.

It was sweet of her to treat me to the shopping trip, and I really became closer to both her and Rose.

Yeah, _Rose_. We were on a nickname basis now.

Alice, as it turned out, was very well off. She came from money and made quite an honest living on her own. She was the designer of a very popular and high-end clothing line, _and_ she was a fiend at predicting stock market trends.

I pulled into the driveway of Rosalie and Emmett's house, where we had all met up, and hopped out of the gargantuan vehicle. Emmett lent it to us after he made Alice promise not to drive it. She was a little thing, better built for maneuvering little cars. I was pretty sure he was just joking, but I still wouldn't have felt one hundred percent safe with hyper, tiny Alice behind the wheel of the huge SUV.

We separated the bags as best we could before Alice and I each loaded them up into our own cars. Emmett had carried Rosalie, who was a very heavy sleeper, into the house while we sorted through the numerous bags. After Emmett had Rosalie settled into bed, he ventured back outside to gather her bags. It warmed my heart to see how great he was to her. The more time I spent with the Cullens and their close friends, the more they grew on me.

"Drive safe, you guys," Emmett said as he made his last trip out. "See you later."

I hugged Alice tightly and thanked her again for everything.

"No problem," she said, giving a final squeeze. "I can't wait to spend some more girl time with you on Isle Cullen!"

"Me too," I said, smiling widely. "I'll see you soon!"

We both drove off, and I followed behind her little Porsche for a few miles before she turned onto another road.

The bags that perched behind me in the back seat weren't quite as many as I had originally thought. Between Alice, Rose, and I, the amount of bags looked like much more. It was a good thing, though. I felt pretty compelled to wear every piece Alice purchased for me for the sole fact that she _had_ purchased them for me. I didn't want to seem ungrateful by not wearing any of them.

Well, at least I wouldn't have to worry about what to wear for the rest of the summer.

The sky was crepuscular and buzzing with the sound of nocturnal insects by the time I pulled into the Cullen's driveway, grabbing as many bags as I could carry.

I stumbled to the front door, trying my hardest to keep my balance and not drop any of the bags. The porch light came on, which must have alerted someone inside to my return, because the door opened after a few seconds.

Of course, I couldn't actually see who it was. The bags were in the way of that.

"That is quite the arm load," Edward's silken voice sounded. "Let me help you with those."

Without another word, over half the bags from my arms were grabbed from me. Edward was careful not to throw my balance off or make me lose my grip, for which I was thankful.

"Alice was quite expeditious today, wasn't she?" he asked, walking up the stairs. Instead of just dropping them off downstairs, it looked like he was going to put them right in my room.

"If this doesn't attest to that, I'm sure the three other armloads of bags in my car do," I told him, a little out of breath. Carrying my weight in clothes up a flight of stairs was hard work.

"There's _more_?" he questioned, his eyes widening and brows raising.

"Much," I answered, heading back out to my car.

With Edward's help, we carried the rest of my bags inside in only one trip. It was a stretch, but we accomplished it.

Although, I have to admit, Edward's amount of bags was much more impressive than mine. He carried at least twice what I did.

After dropping everything off in my room, Edward stood to assess the pile of shopping bags. "Do you need any help putting them away?"

"No!" I said quickly, remembering some of the more _personal_ items Alice had bought for me. I would probably die of humiliation if Edward came across any of those. The fact that he probably carried a good portion of my intimate items made me a little pink in the face. "But thanks for the offer. Oh, and for helping me carry them all up."

"No problem," he said, making his way out. He stopped at the door frame, planting his hands on either side. He tapped his fingers on the wood before nodding once. "I guess I'll leave you to it."

"Alright. Bye, Edward," I said before absentmindedly picking up something out of one of my bags at random. My eyes were still on Edward when I felt the light, slightly rough fabric in my hands. His eyes were locked on whatever was in my hands, and I quickly looked down.

Lingerie.

I hastily shoved the skimpy black and cream scraps of lace and silk back into a bag, and ended up knocking over another one in the process.

I could just see God laughing his ass off at me as I watched the bag that contained the thongs Alice bought me spill over, the paper unrolling dramatically to showcase every item.

My head snapped up to Edward, whose eyes were locked on the panties that were sprawled out on the floor. His eyes raised to mine, and I'd never seen him look so flustered.

"On that note," he said, his voice low and sultry. He turned around and left, leaving me horrified and speechless.

I groaned before placing my head in my hands.

_Oh, grow up,_ I told myself sternly. _It's just underwear._

I repeated that in my head like a mantra_. It's just underwear. It's _just _underwear_.

But the lingerie wasn't just underwear. It was provocative and something Edward most likely couldn't help but assume was essentially for his son.

The humiliation was back in full force. I honestly didn't even intend to wear the getup. Alice, Rosalie, and I all tried on various sexy outfits, and Alice ended up buying the ones she liked best on me. It was a little personal, but that's how—as I came to find out—Alice was.

I packed some of the clothes away in the closets and dressers, and some in the large suitcase I would be talking to Isle Cullen. I became more and more excited about the trip as time progressed. We would be there for two weeks, and leave just a few days before Edward's birthday.

His thirty-sixth birthday.

I've always had a thing for older men. Anthony had been the first guy I've even been interested who was younger than me. But Edward put me right back on track.

The two weeks I've spent here in Seattle have been nothing short of confusing.

My attraction to Edward only grew, and I was pretty certain it was mutual. Anthony had been acting a little off, some days more than others, and we've both been giving each other more space than usual.

Just last week, I saw Edward's back for the first time. Nothing particularly monumental, but he did have a fucking sexy back.

A sexy back that adorned an even sexier tattoo.

It was an intricate, roaring lion. It looked tribal, almost.

_Edward and I were in the pool, Anthony inside, on the phone to someone back in Chicago. His landlord or storage facility keeper or something. Edward splashed me playfully, laughing as I gasped when the water hit my face._

_I splashed him back as hard as I could, effectively trumping his puny waves. He gave in, covering in face with his godly arms and twisting away._

_"Wait," I said, ceasing fire. "Turn around."_

_He did as I said, revealing the profile of a roaring lion in between his muscular shoulder blades. Without thinking, I lifted my hand and traced the thick, black lines with my finger, all the way to the red tongue peeking out of the ferocious lion's mouth; the perfect touch to the lascivious ink portrait._

_He shivered, his head lolling back slightly. I lightly raked three fingers halfway down his back before pulling my hand away._

_"Sorry," I whispered, unsure how I got so carried away._

_"Don't be," Edward said in a low voice, turning around to face me. His eyes were dark and hooded, clouded with what I could only identify as lust. He moved closer, gliding in the water._

_"Your tattoo is beautiful," I said, my voice close to a whisper. "What's the story behind it?"_

_"I got it almost as soon as I turned eighteen," he told me, his eyes somewhat clearer. "I asked Emmett what he thought I should get done, and he told me to tattoo his name onto my forehead. Then, more realistically, he told me I should get a lion. I agreed wholly, and started working with a tattoo designer. I showed him the lion on the Cullen crest, and that was the main inspiration for it. He drew it while I described to him what I wanted. I got it done that day. I've never regretted it, as the lion symbolizes courage, strength, and loyalty, three things I always want to be for my family. Anthony's also a Leo, so that was just another reason why a lion was so perfect."_

_"It is perfect," I noted._

_"That, and the fact that it's also kind of sexy," he laughed, running his fingers through his wet hair._

_"Just a little," I teased, itching to see it again. I hated to admit it, but his tattoo got me a little hot and bothered. I bit my lip as multiple images raced through my brain. All dirty, and all featuring Edward and his tattoo._

_Just when I thought he couldn't get any hotter. I should have expected this._

_I tried my best to catch a glimpse of his tattoo for the rest of our time in the pool. At one point, I wanted nothing more than to attach myself to Edward and rake my nails across his inked skin._

_It was at that point that I decided leaving the pool would be in my best interest._

_Well, my best interest if I wanted to stay physically faithful to my boyfriend. God knows, I was a mind whore, but at least I hadn't technically cheated on him._

_Not yet, at least._

I sighed, licking my lips as I remembered Edward's wet skin and dark tattoo. I prayed to every deity I could think of that I would get to see that tattoo more often.

I later found out that he gets it touched up every once in a while, so it wouldn't look faded.

It was weird, and possibly twisted, but I really wanted to see that. Edward shirtless and pressed up against a leather chair, some man taking a buzzing needle to his skin.

Yes, definitely twisted.

In said twisted fantasy, I imagined being there for Edward afterward. Soothing his tender skin with my lips, and quite possibly my tongue.

I shuddered, suddenly all too curious about the taste of Edward's skin.

After my packing was done and everything else was put away, I felt like I should turn in for the night.

Only it was barely nine o'clock.

I knew I wouldn't be able to sleep just yet.

A knock on my door sounded, and I selfishly hoped it was Edward.

It wasn't. It was Anthony, who I didn't see nearly as often as I used to. We were practically living separate lives. Yet, I couldn't find it in me to leave. Or even confront him about it.

"Hey babe," he said, walking into the room. He sat himself on my bed, leaning back into the headboard. He motioned for me to join him, which I did. "What's going on?"

"Nothing," I said, settling myself beside him. "I just finished putting my new clothes up. I went on an insane shopping trip with Alice and Rosalie. You wouldn't believe how much I came back with."

"I'd believe it if you came home with a U-Haul. Alice has taken me shopping before," he said laughingly. He became serious once again, resting his hand on my knee. "But I meant, what's going on with _us?_"

"I don't know," I said. I had originally planned to go with the whole _I don't know what you mean_ spiel, but I cut myself off—we both knew that was bullshit.

"God, what happened to us?" he asked, resting his other arm atop his head. "I miss us."

"I do too," I told him. It was a half-truth. A part of me did miss what we had, how we used to be.

"It's been _weeks_ since we've been together," he lamented, his hand tightening around his golden blond hair.

"I know," I sighed. I was monumentally sexually frustrated. I knew Anthony wouldn't be able to completely quell the ache I was feeling, though. Only one man would be able to do that, and that man was completely off limits. I exhaled heavily out of my nose. Pining after Edward was pointless, and I might as well utilize the fact that I had a more than willing boyfriend to tend to my needs. "Stay here tonight."

"Really?" he asked, taken off guard.

"Yeah," I confirmed, nodding my head.

We ended up slouching lower and lower in bed, until out heads were the only thing being propped up by the headboard. We talked about everything and nothing, and I even modeled some of the outfits I had gotten.

Feeling risque, I decided to model a piece of lingerie. I had only one other set that Anthony had seen me in before, and it wasn't nearly as sexy. I spun slowly before making my way over to a flushed looking Anthony.

I leaned down and whispered in his ear. "I need to go wash up."

I quickly put a short, thin cotton robe on over my lingerie and went to the bathroom to wash my face and brush my teeth.

I couldn't believe I had asked Anthony to stay the night. Things were beginning to be much more comfortable between us, almost like before we came to Seattle. I wanted to be happy about it, I wanted to feel comforted by the mending of our slowly tearing relationship, but I wasn't. Edward was constantly in the back of my mind, omnipresent no matter how hard I tried to think of anything but him.

When I made my way back to my room, the lights were off, and only a lamp remained on. It was on its lowest setting, casting a soft glow over the room. It was obvious what kind of mood Anthony was trying to set. He might as well have lit vanilla and sandalwood candles and had Barry White crooning in the background.

I'm sure he would have, had he the time or means.

I shrugged off my robe and crawled into bed to find Anthony wearing nothing but his boxers. He snuggled up against me, his hands caressing my body and lips covering my neck.

Things began to heat up between us, but the more he touched me, the clearer Edward became in my mind. It both frightened me and turned me on.

I weighed my options. I could have a great night with Anthony and come to a mental image of his father, while feeling guilty and disloyal to both parties, or I could put a stop to everything, and leave myself a thin shred of dignity.

Anthony's fingers found my thinly veiled clit, and began rubbing rhythmically over the highly sensitive area. It felt _good_. Sexual gratification of any kind had been put on delay for weeks. Guilt consumed me every time I tried to get myself off, which really put a damper on things.

Anthony's fingers pressed harder, making me moan out louder than I intended. My mind immediately flashed to Edward, and whether or not he could hear me. My mind stayed on Edward, conjuring up delicious images and scenarios that consumed my every thought.

What would it feel like to have Edward's fingers between my legs?

I was fast approaching orgasm, and my moans and pants became louder and more frequent.

"Eh—_mmm_," I moaned, Edward's name on the tip of my tongue. I came _so_ close to saying it, inadvertently, but stopped myself at last minute, biting down on my lower lip harshly.

I faked my orgasm, wanting Anthony to stop right away. I felt a little sick, all the pleasure suddenly gone.

Anthony began to strip me of my lingerie, but I stopped him.

"We can't," I said quietly. Ashamedly.

"Oh?" he asked, seeming irritated but curious.

"I'm on my period," I blurted, even though we both knew that was a lie. I had used that excuse a bit before last week. Then I actually did get my period a few days later. Now, I've been off it for more than three days.

"Really?" he sneered, looking more spiteful than I had ever seen him.

Without warning, he yanked my panties to the side, and the sound of splitting seams permeated through the room. I gasped, completely unfamiliar with this side of him.

After inspecting my obviously bloodless vagina, he tightened his grip on my underwear, and for a second, I thought he was about to tear them all the way off. Instead, he let them go before getting up off the bed.

"I'm sorry—"

"Save it," he spat, leaving the room clad in nothing but his boxers. "I don't want to hear it."

"Just come back," I whimpered, ready to plead my case.

"No," he said darkly. "I'm going to leave before I do something I know I'll regret."

With that, he shut the door loudly, causing me to cringe.

I was stunned. Shocked, even. I didn't know what came over Anthony, and I didn't think I wanted to. I had never seen him act anything like that before, and it honestly scared me. Silent tears rolled down my cheeks as I thought back to what he had said.

_I'm going to leave before I do something I know I'll regret._

I turned off the lamp completely, his words still rolling through my head, like news headlines at the bottom of a TV screen.

The disgusted look on his face was the last thing I saw before drifting off to sleep.

**-:-**

The morning of the trip came around, and I was up before the sun was.

It was four-fucking-thirty in the morning, and I wasn't too thrilled about the fact.

I'd slept like shit for the past few nights, and I could feel the bags under my eyes. Anthony and I hadn't been talking, and the tension between us was thick.

Everyone noticed. No one said a word.

I had my carry-on bag and my suitcase, and I lugged them both down the stairs, where Edward waited with a mug of coffee.

"Espresso," he told me, handing me the mug. I shot him a small smile before sipping the strong drink. It was dark and perfect.

Anthony came down shortly and avoided making eye contact with me. It was how I determined how mad at me he still was. I would try to get him to look at me, and when he didn't, I knew he was still pissed.

I had never known Anthony to hold a grudge, and neither did his family. His behavior was weird for everyone, and I hated being the sole cause of it.

We called a cab to get to the Sea-Tac Airport, because there was really no point in keeping anyone's car at the airport for two weeks. The cab ride was silent, and I ended up riding shotgun. The cabby made no attempts at refraining from staring at me.

"Why don't you keep your eyes on the road rather than the lady's legs," Edward hissed from the backseat. I blushed, an odd, warm sensation coursing through my entire torso. Edward sounded so protective of me.

The cab driver did as Edward said. For a solid three minutes. I was just glad the roads were mostly cleared, or we would have doubtlessly been in an accident. My breasts and legs were the object of the driver's attention, and it was just a little irritating. I really wished I hadn't worn a dress. I should have let Edward ride up front, like he had offered. Even though I was sure sitting alone with Anthony would have been just as uncomfortable. After the driver licked his lips, I about lost it.

"Seriously, man?" I asked, and he finally looked up at my face. But he seemed to fucking like that too, because all he did was wink.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me," Edward growled from the back.

We finally made it to the airport, and I got out as fast as I could. And I knew the driver was staring at me as I did so.

"Twenty-six fifty," the man said to Edward in a thick accent.

"I think you got at least twenty-six dollars worth of staring in, don't you?" Edward asked, making me chortle softly.

"Twenty-six fifty," the driver repeated.

"Jesus," Edward said before fishing out his wallet. He handed the driver a few bills before walking through the rotating glass doors.

"So you guys have a private island, but no private jet?" I joked.

"No, we do," Edward answered. "It's in Europe right now, though."

"Why?" I asked bluntly. But it was five in the morning. My manners hadn't woken up yet.

"We loaned it to some good friends of ours," he explained.

"It really pays to be your friend," I kidded.

"You have no idea," he smirked.

I looked over to Anthony, who was silently observing the expanse of the large glass building.

We went through baggage claim and security without a problem. I half expected a pat down or strip search, like you see in movies, but no. We were just a happy, small group of white people who the airport security didn't give a shit about.

"I'm going to find something to eat," Anthony announced before walking off.

"What _happened_ between you two?" Edward asked, shaking his head before running his ringers through his shiny, unruly hair. "I know it's none of my business, but I've never..."

Edward stopped short of what he was going to say. The silent '_seen him this way_' hung in the air. "I wouldn't even know where to begin."

It was a lie, and I think we could both easily recognize that fact. But I figured that was a better way of brushing his question off than just telling him _it's complicated_.

"It was my fault," I confessed. Because it was. Anthony hadn't done anything wrong, I've just been the world's shittiest girlfriend. I wonder if I could get _that_ on a mug.

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Edward told me. "Anthony has a way of inadvertently making himself seem faultless in most situations. I know you think it's all your fault, whatever happened between the two of you, but I'm sure he's feeling the same way."

What Edward said actually made sense, but it didn't really make me feel better.

I was about to sit down at our terminal, but Edward stopped me.

"We sit in the first class lounge, remember?" he said, leading me past the terminal and into a private, cozy little lounge. I'd always thought it was stupid how a little more money got you such better treatment, but now I was kind of enjoying it.

Edward and I took a seat in our lounge, while Anthony was out of sight.

"Five down, two to go," Edward muttered, nodding his head towards a steady line of people coming from security. In the throng of people, a very tired Alice and Jasper came slowly to where we were seated. Alice was, shockingly, barely functioning. Without Jasper at her side, I was pretty sure she would be sprawled out on the floor by now. It was almost amusing to see her so lethargic, as opposed to her usual hyperactivity.

"Morning," she drawled out, yawning as soon as she opened her mouth. Jasper rubbed her arm soothingly and she leaned into him further.

"Do you guys want some coffee?" I asked, getting up to got some for myself.

"I'll have a cup," Jasper said, looking down at Alice. "But trust me, she's better off this way than pumped up on caffeine."

Alice made a halfhearted attempt to smack him on the chest, but ended up barely brushing him.

"And you, Edward?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered, getting up from his seat. "But I think I'll join you."  
>Side by side, we walked through the airport to find the closest Starbucks. I took in my surroundings, observing the sights and smells of the building. "I've always loved air ports."<p>

"They're not too bad," Edward said without much enthusiasm. I assumed he's seen enough airports to have grown accustomed to them, the brilliance and energy completely gone from the experience. Or maybe he never even looked at it that way in the first place, and it was just me who had a penchant for airports.

"They're so exciting," I relented, gaining a little energy. "Not only are they the starting and ending point to every great, new adventure, but they're pretty damn cool, too."

"I've never look at it that way," Edward said, his lips curling upwards. "But I guess you're right. They _are_ pretty damn cool. I mean, I've been to Sea-Tac more times than I can count, but it's a nice place. I still think I've only seen about a sixth of it."

We made our way to the Starbucks and waited in the line that was thankfully only a few people deep.

Edward placed his hand on the small of my back as we moved forward in line, warmth radiating from where his hand was resting. I leaned into his touch, albeit not entirely on purpose. I just wanted to be closer to him.

"What can I get for you?" the girl said, directing her question to Edward. A pang of jealousy hit me, and I felt oddly possessive of Edward, even though I consciously knew he wasn't mine to possess.

"Two regular coffees with an extra shot of espresso," he told the girl, looking at the menu above her, which seemed to agitate her to an extent.

"What size?" she asked, taking her hair between her fingers. The bitch literally twirled her hair.

"The medium one," Edward said gruffly, even though I knew he knew the name for it.

"Two Grande Red Eyes it is," she said, smiling obnoxiously. "Anything else?"

"What would you like, Bella?" Edward said, moving the hand that was still resting on my back up and down, sending tiny sparks of electricity up my spine. It wasn't much, but the small movement both calmed and excited me at the same time. "Bella?"

"Oh," I said, taking my eyes off of him. "Grande Caramel Macchiato."

Edward and I waited for our drinks to be made while I silently brooded a little. Edward and I were becoming closer, our attraction undeniable. We were finding little ways to touch each other as often as we could, whether it was something silly like playing a never ending game of thumb wars or something more intimate like his hand on my back.

We took the coffees back to our lounge, laughing and joking along the way. Anthony was back with a large parfait, talking to Emmett.

"Thanks for bringing us some," Rosalie complained sarcastically as Edward handed a coffee to Jasper.

"I'm sorry," Edward apologized, sounding sincere. "I'll try harder to receive your telepathic messages next time."

"Just don't let it happen again," Rosalie said, forgiving Edward.

Our flight was scheduled to take off shortly, and we were all ready to go. Carlisle and Esme were only going to be staying for the final few days, due to Carlisle's job. Being a doctor is apparently quite demanding. Edward, Emmett, and Alice were all their own bosses, which was convenient, and Rosalie worked for Emmett. Also quite convenient. Jasper had been recently laid off, so this vacation was something I could only assume was much needed.

The coffee woke me up a little more, and our section was called to board.

First freakin' class.

I was practically giddy, having never ridden first class before.

The area was wide and spacious, much different from coach. The seats actually looked comfortable and not clustered. I was seated at a window seat, and right next to me was Edward.

Thank you, airline gods.

Anthony looked over at us with a raised brow, making my stomach drop.

"Hey, uh, do you want to trade seats? I'm sure you guys have a lot to talk about," Edward said to Anthony.

"No, I'm fine with my seat," Anthony sniffed, making his way down the aisle to his seat, a few rows in front of me.

"I guess we're still not on speaking terms," I said to Edward, but loud enough for Anthony to hear.

"Apparently not," Edward observed, looking at me. "I must admit, I'm a little curious as to what transpired between the two of you."

"A lot of little things, and then one pretty big thing," I told him vaguely, not sating his curiosity in the least. But what was I supposed to say? _Oh, regular couple-y issues. I've been avoiding him since I arrived because I have a monumental crush on you, and he's been acting strange himself. We tried to patch things up the other night, but I just ended up almost calling out your name while he was fingering me, denying him sex, and having him storm out, but not before he ripped my lingerie when proving I wasn't actually on my period for the second week straight. Any advice?_

Yes, I'd love to hear his answer to that.

Our group was dispersed through the cabin, although we were all pretty close by. The couples all sat next to each other, with the exception of Anthony and me. But really, were we even a couple anymore?

The flight took off after not too long, and Edward and I had stayed mostly silent up until that point. The flight attendant came around offering her services. You know, food, drinks, a romp in the cockpit.

But that last one only applied to Edward. The two flight attendants circulating the area surrounded the Cullen men, and Jasper, like vultures before a dead carcass. I briefly considered filming it to send to the Discovery Channel.

The blonde bitch made sure to hand me the drink I ordered real close. It was so sweet of her to lean all the way over Edward to make sure I didn't have to extend my arms.

By the time I was referring to the other flight attendant as Firecrotch, I realized I might have a slight jealousy problem.

Which was really kind of funny, because I honestly didn't care that Firecrotch adjusted her breasts before tending to Anthony, or the fact that she conveniently dropped a cup right in front of him, giving him a front row view to her scrawny ass.

What I did care about was every single word Blonde Bitch said to Edward. It was maddening.

The only thing that offered me any solace was Edward blatantly ignoring her advances. He instead talked to me, which made me feel a hell of a lot better.

"So what do you want to do for the next fourteen hours?" he asked, leaning back in his seat.

I groaned, not even wanting to think about how I would be feeling when I arrived. It would be ten o'clock, Rio de Janeiro time, by the time we got there.

"Invent a time machine," I told him, remembering my last day-long flight. At least I would be spending this one first class.

And with Edward.

"Touche," he said, smiling. I was leaning back now, and our faces were only inches apart. "But I was thinking something more along the lines of a movie."

Edward stood up to reach into the overhead compartment where his bag was stored, and I simply sat back and enjoyed the view. Edward's shirt rose up, exposing his muscular stomach and trail of hair, just a few shades darker than that on his head, that disappeared into his jeans. I licked my lips, wanting to follow that little trail and see where it takes me.

_To heaven_, my inner voice quipped.

"Since you have to be stuck with me," Edward said, sitting down and pulling out his laptop, "I'll let you pick the movie."

He handed me the computer, and I was faced with a screen of endless movie titles. I felt like I was at the Blockbuster back home. I used to make my dad take me all the time. I'd stay there forever picking out a movie, telling my dad he'd be able to leave sooner if he just let me rent more.

I scrolled through the titles before coming across the winner. I showed Edward who seemed to approve of my choice.

"How are we going to do this?"

"You just wait," Edward said before reaching back into his bag. He pulled out a little device that he plugged into his computer, and then set the whole thing down on the little pull-out table, angling it so we could both see the screen. "Do you have a set of headphones?"

The device ended up being a splitter, a nifty little thing that allowed multiple headphones to be plugged into one jack. We watched The Hangover together, unable to contain our laughter. We got a few dirty looks and a couple of complaints from the attendant. I don't think either of us cared.

While the movie helped the first two hours pass by quickly and easily, I wasn't sure what we'd do for the next twelve.

"Would you care for anything to eat?" Firecrotch asked. I felt a little guilty for calling her that, since she currently wasn't even checking Edward out, but it was the only thing I knew her as.

She handed us menus to look through, and I literally gasped.

And I thought I lucked out with the full cans of soda and yummy muffins I got on my flight to Germany.

The menu had fucking caviar omelets.

Not half an hour later, Edward and I were drinking coffee that rivaled that of Starbucks', and eating a breakfast that rivaled Bev's.

I didn't order the caviar omelet for two reasons. One, fish of any kind didn't seem quite like a morning food, and two, it was safe to assume Edward paid a small fortune for these seats, and I didn't want to make that bill any higher.

Unless of course the meals came with the ticket.

Damn it, maybe I _should_ have gotten that caviar omelet.

Our table was cleared and put away, and the sun was high in the sky. The clouds were white and fluffy, and I could just barely make out the sea below us.

"It's so beautiful," I breathed, not even meaning to say the words out loud.

"Very beautiful," Edward agreed. I looked over at him to find him staring not out the window, but intently at me. I gasped once again, this time at the intense look in his eyes. My eyes flickered down to his slightly parted lips, and I hungrily licked my own. He slowly leaned in, and I _knew_ he was about to kiss me.

My stomach fluttered in anticipation as he came closer.

_He was really going to do it!_

I leaned in as well, wordlessly assuring him that I wanted this just as badly.

Probably more.

His lips were mere inches from my own, and I could barely feel the heat of his breath. I closed my eyes, waiting.

"Can I getcha anything?" an annoyingly chipper, nasally voice sounded, completely ruining the moment that was so obviously happening between Edward and I. Blonde Bitch turned out to be the owner of the horrible voice. I glared at her as she smiled widely, her horse-like teeth perfectly proportioned to her horse-like face.

"No," Edward snapped in a low voice that even scared _me._

"Okay then," she said, her eyes going a little wide. "But if you ever need—"

"What I _need_ is for you to go bother some other poor, unsuspecting passenger and leave us alone," Edward growled, obviously in a bad mood.

To put it lightly.

Blonde Bitch scurried off, hopefully to never return.

If I could only be so lucky.

I didn't break the tense silence between us in case he was mad at me, too.

I stared out the window, anger, frustration, and confusion pulsing through me.

I felt Edward lightly place his hand on my arm, close to my wrist. I turned to face him, met with a look of guilt and shame. I cringed inwardly, wishing he didn't look so ashamed of something he almost done. God knows what he would look like had we actually kissed.

"I'm sorry about that, Bella," he sighed, his fingers lightly stroking the skin of my arm. I wasn't sure if he knew he was doing it. Regardless, I didn't want him to stop.

"Don't be," I whispered, not meaning for my voice to come out so weak and soft. "I..."

"What?" Edward asked softly, after I got stuck on my words. "You what?"

"I wanted you to," I mumbled, looking away. I didn't think I could face him. Maybe telling him how I felt only a few hours into a fourteen hour long plane ride wasn't such a bright idea.

"And I wanted to," Edward admitted, his voice as low as before, but sans the harshness. "But where does that leave us?"

"In one hell of a mess," I grumbled, marveling at the complications of the situation. He's my boyfriend's _father_. It was so morally wrong for either of us to be feeling the way we do.

"Look, I don't want things to become tense between us," Edward said, his fingers sliding down to the skin of my palm. He laced his fingers between mine and squeezed slightly. It sent tingles up my arm, but in a good way. "And I certainly don't want to ruin this trip. I know we need to talk about whatever _this_ is, or means, but can it wait?"

I opened my mouth, but before I could even get a syllable out, Edward cut me off.

"Two weeks," he stated. "For the next two weeks, why don't we just keep pretending that nothing is out of the ordinary between us, like we have been for the last couple of weeks? We'll talk about it on the plane ride back."

"Okay," I agreed, figuring _what's two more weeks of pretending?_

After all, ignorance is bliss. And we planned on _ignoring_ the chemistry between us for another two weeks. Blissful, right?

"Can we start pretending after...," I brought our interlocked hands up to examine his watch. "Hm, nine-ish?"

"And how come, exactly?" he asked me, curiosity and suspicion lacing his voice.

"So I can finally do this," I said, leaning up to kiss him.

Edward pushed my shoulders firmly, but gently. Hurt, I sat back down in my seat, cursing myself for even trying that.

I bit my lip hard, willing myself not to cry. I didn't understand exactly why I felt the need to, but my throat was tingling sharply, and my eyes were watering. I was by no means the crying type, but I knew the warning signs.

"Bella?" he asked. "Bella, please look at me."

My eyes were swimming with unshed tears, but I looked at him anyway. He looked almost like he was in pain.

"I'm sorry," he said once again, rubbing his face with his hands. "God, I'm sorry. But you know we can't do that. Especially not _here_. Anyone could have seen us."

"Can we just pretend I didn't do that?" I asked, a little mortified.

"For another two weeks," Edward said, smiling. "Then, we talk."

"Right," I agreed.

The day grew brighter and then darker, right before my eyes. First class was insanely more luxurious than coach. We had gourmet meals and drinks. Nonalcoholic for me, of course. Blonde Bitch smirked as she asked for my ID. The seats reclined almost all the way back, too.

I watched as Alice got up and made her way to the restroom, Jasper quick in tow. I blushed at the obviousness of what they were doing. Jasper didn't even wait thirty seconds to join her. Edward chuckled as he noted my shocked expression.

"I'm just surprised it wasn't Emmett and Rosalie," he chortled, casting his glance back down to his lap, where his book was resting. Edward had pulled out a pair of reading glasses, and they looked incredibly sexy on him. I tried to keep myself from staring, but it was hard.

An image of me leading Edward to the first class lavatory popped into my head. I imagined he would pull my dress up and yank my panties down, then hastily undo his belt and pants. Fuck me hard and fast against the wall. Or maybe the sink. He would have to hold his hand over my mouth to keep me from screaming out. I'd bite down, sinking my teeth into his flesh. I'd fist the fabric of his shirt in my hands and grab hold of his hair, making it absolutely clear what we had done to anyone who saw us afterward.

"Bella?" Edward said. I snapped my head up, embarrassed. I really hoped I hadn't voiced any of that. "Did you say something?"

"Uh. No?" was my brilliant response. _At least I hope I didn't_, I added silently.

"Okay," he said, looking skeptical. "I just thought I heard you make a sound." _Great._

"Suspenseful part in my book," I lied, holding it up slightly. "I'm a, uh, passionate reader."

"Right," he nodded, an amused smirk on his face. I didn't think he bought it.

Alice and Jasper emerged a little while later, one after the other, looking flustered. At least they tried to conceal what they were doing _somewhat_ by not coming out together. But, still.

I took a couple of naps on the plane, the soft pillow and fleece blanket amazingly comfortable. On one account, I awoke next to Edward, who was still sleeping, and our faces were quite close. It was nice.

The city lights came into view through the window as we approached the airport. They grew larger and clearer, exciting me the closer we got.

I was near giddy when the pilot announced our soon landing.

I came close to squealing when the wheels hit the runway.

We were the first to get off the plane, and I stretched my stiff legs before walking down the isle.

"Land!" Emmett bellowed, stepping out of the private hallway and into the first class lounge of the Rio de Janeiro airport. "Sweet, sweet land!"

We were all bedraggled and stiff from the long plane ride. I had almost forgotten what it was like to sit in a plane for so long. But the sights were gorgeous. It was amazing to see the world from such a different angle. Taking off and landing were my favorite parts. The neat line of cars, the structured cluster of buildings, the angular patches of land, they all made such a mad, cluttered world look like a child's playhouse.

I tried to get a few shots in, but the thick panes of plastic windows made that a little troubling.

"My ass is so sore!" Alice yelled loudly, earning a few amused looks from passing strangers.

"So _that's_ what you and Jasper were doing in the bathroom," Emmett teased. "Not joining the mile-high club the old fashioned way, eh?"

"Oh, shut up!" Alice squeaked. "You know that's not what I meant!"

I looked around the foreign air port, noting the Portuguese signs and words. It was a little intimidating.

We got a hold of our luggage fairly easily and made our way out to the cabs that were waiting for us.

We took three cabs, and it was a tight fit for Edward, Anthony and me. The luggage didn't all fit in the back, so there was some of it in the seats as well as on the floor. Edward sat up front, much to my dismay, and Anthony and I sat silently in the back, a large black suit case between us.

Anthony was texting furiously on his phone, something I had never known him to do, paying no mind to me. I mindlessly played with the hem of my dress, tracing the patterns of the lightweight fabric with my eyes.

It was almost eleven at night where we now were, and we were still half an hour away from where the boat would be taking us to the island.

Isle Cullen.

It didn't even seem real that we would be staying on an exclusive, tropical island for two weeks. I looked out the window, the city lights and exotic flora both complimented and contradicted each other. I rolled down the window and was immediately greeted with cool air and foreign sounds.

I pulled out my camera and took a few shots. I liked moving, blurred photographs, they seemed to capture the hustle and bustle of everyday life. But I knew the difference between capturing movement and a hazy shot. I moved and angled the camera as best I could to optimize the clarity and quality of my shots.

Stoplights were a godsend.

The time passed quickly, and before I knew it, we were at our arrived destination. The cab driver helped us with our bags and went on his merry way, two other public service vehicles in tow.

We loaded up the two fairly large speedboats and headed out onto the black waters. Emmett drove our boat, which was both exciting and unnerving.

We hit bumps and waves, during each of which Emmett hollered and whooped. He even started racing the other boat, which consisted of Alice, Jasper, and Anthony.

As soon as I loaded my luggage into the one boat, Anthony immediately loaded his into the other.

Emmett did a sharp turn, effectively cutting the other boat off. During this turn, I fell into Edward's lap. I used his thigh as leverage to hoist myself back up. He helped me off of him, making sure I was settled firmly in my seat before letting me go. I laughed nervously before thanking him.

At the front of the boat, a curved metal bar caught my glance. Upon further inspection, I noticed there was a place to sit at the very tip of the boat.

"Can we sit up there?" I asked Edward.

"Of course," he said before promptly getting out of his seat. He held out his hand to me.

I eagerly took it, and we walked past Emmett and Rosalie and into the circular seating section.

We were so high up! I laughed, looking around. Every small wave we hit felt even larger than when we were sitting in the back.

"This is amazing!" I called over the roar of the engine.

"It is," Edward agreed, smiling.

The moon was full and set high in the sky, the light of the pale white orb refracting off the water.

"We're not too far off," Edward said, noting the speck of land way off in the distance. I was mildly disappointed, having way too much fun on the boat. But I _was_ exhausted and ready to curl up in what was undoubtedly a soft, luxurious bed. I mean, who goes all out and gets a private island, but on it puts a mediocre bed?

The speck became larger and clearer, shapes and outlines standing out.

"Here we are!" Emmett shouted. "Isle Cullen!"

A small dock was located just on the edge of the island, and Emmett and Jasper secured the boats there. The island was really outstandingly beautiful. It almost looked untouched by mankind.

The only thing to disturb the nature was a large, tropical-looking house, partially hidden by the trees, stretching out along the sand.

The seven of us walked leisurely through the soft sand along the slowly ebbing shore. The house was completely dark from the inside, and that combined with the vines and vegetation growing up and around it, made it look almost deserted.

Edward was the one to open the house, flipping on a switch to illuminate the inside.

The décor was fantastic, all in creams and blues, with light blond wood. The few green accents made it seem that much more paradisiacal.

Emmett led us to the kitchen and reached into a high cabinet, pulling out a glass bottle. Rum. Rosalie assisted him and grabbed the shot glasses, lining them up. Emmett began filling them as she lined them up, spilling very little of the liquid onto the counter. They worked so efficiently together, they were obviously attuned with each other.

That, or they had done this enough to perfect it.

We each grabbed a glass, raising it in the air.

Emmett cleared his throat, indicating that he was about to make a toast. "To a fortnight of family, fun, and good ol' fashioned fucking!"

**-:-**

**So they've arrived on the island! Things are gonna get crazy! I've already written a good portion of the next chapter, and reviewers get a teaser.**

**I've got a few ideas for another outtake, but I want YOU guys to tell me what you want to read. A certain POV you wanted to see at one point, maybe? Or possibly Alice and Jasper's joining of the mile high club? ;) I'm open to all suggestions!**

**If you're curious, there are links to pictures of Edward's tattoo and the Isle Cullen house, ****_and_**** an amazing banner made by IllicitWriter!**

**Lastly, sorry if I got any of the information wrong, namely about flying. I've never flown first class or international, so I probably messed that up a bit.**


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

_One-two, one-two, one-two..._

I repeated the two numbers in my head in time with my heavy footsteps. The sand made my legs work even harder, but I welcomed the burn of my muscles as a much needed distraction.

I was sweaty and hot, and the cool, clear water looked so welcoming. I looked behind me, the long expanse of wood and stone that made up the Isle Cullen house all but gone out of my line of sight. I felt almost like I was on a deserted island, with the endless span of blue ocean to one side of me, and a dense line of vegetation to the other.

Once I could no longer see the house, I collapsed onto the sand. My chest rose and fell with each heavy breath. You'd think after running for almost a year, I'd build some sort of endurance, but I barely noticed a difference from when I had first started.

I looked up at the cloudless, sunny sky, and hoped I would get some color out of this vacation, if anything. I didn't mean to sound ungrateful, but this trip wasn't exactly what I was expecting. And trust me, I wasn't expecting much.

Shortly after our arrival, Edward started pushing me away. Not so subtly, either. He was polite about it, but we hadn't had a single conversation since the night we arrived. Just pleasantries and small talk. He interacted mostly with his brother and Jasper, leaving me to brood to myself. Either he was an amazing actor, or he had some sort of overnight epiphany, wherein he suddenly realized how _not_ worth the trouble I was.

Anthony and I, on the other hand, were getting along swimmingly. He apologized for his childlike behavior the very first morning we arrived, and was back to his pre-Seattle self. We were all getting along like one happy, Stepford family.

I felt alarmingly like Nicole Kidman's character in that little scenario. Suspicious of the unrealistically happy people, and just slightly paranoid. All I knew was that if there was some kind of Isle Cullen Day Spa, I was staying the hell away from it. Just in case.

After regaining some of my energy, I hoisted myself up from the sand, taking some of it with me, and stripped out of my running shorts and sports bra. Clad in one of my new bikinis, I dove into the crystalline water.

I swam and dove and marveled at the clarity of the water. The sky above me subtly darkened and I soon noticing how much closer I was to the house.

The current was slowly delivering me back from where I came. I looked to my small pile of clothes, a tiny black heap in the distance. I was almost equidistant between them and the house. I swam along with the weak current, gliding underwater with grace I could never even hope to possess on land.

Once in front of the Cullen's grand domicile, I emerged from the water, dripping wet and without a towel.

Before entering the house, I tried to shake the excess water out of my hair. During my little headbanging session, I heard a chuckle come from nearby.

In one of the front gazebos, Edward was sitting on the bench, looking directly at me.

My eyes widened in embarrassment at the fact that he had just witnessed me shaking myself off like a dog.

I looked between him and the front door, trying to decide which to go to.

Without looking back at Edward, I marched up to the door.

"Bella!" I heard Edward call out. I froze before turning to him. He didn't say anything, only motioned for me to come closer. "I think we need to talk."

I walked across the partially roofed deck to where Edward was seated. I stood before him, not wanting to sit down until I knew what he wanted.

"About what happened on the plane," he said, sparking my interest. Was he finally going to address it? I nodded, letting him know he should continue. "I just wanted to apologize again about it. What I attempted to do was completely inappropriate, and I'm sorry if I've given you some kind of message, or led you on in any way. It won't happen again, I assure you."

Stunned, and feeling slightly queasy, I nodded once more, this time much slower.

"I also think it's best if we don't speak of it again," he continued, his polite smile not reaching his empty eyes. "You understand, right?"

"Yes," I choked out. I looked away, the look in his eyes tearing me apart from the inside.

"Great, I'm glad we're on the same page." I pursed my lips, knowing if I opened them, I'd either say a lot of stupid things or throw up. Neither of which would help me at this point. "I'll see you around."

Without a word, I spun on my heel, leaving Edward to his book. I could barely process what had just happened. What had I done wrong? What could I have done to warrant _that _kind of behavior from him?

Something told me I'd never find out.

I quickly walked back inside the house with my head held high. I didn't flatter myself into thinking Edward was watching me walk away, not after that display, but if he did happen to glance my way, I didn't want to look diffident and dejected. No, I wanted him to think I was just as unaffected as he apparently was.

I rushed past an embracing Alice and Jasper, and headed to my room to get dressed.

I moved on autopilot, thinking about my encounter with Edward the entire time. After days of avoidance, he finally decides to confront me, only to basically tell me to kindly fuck off? Sure, those weren't his _exact _words, but they might as well have been. They'd have given me the same message.

I used a towel to dry my hair and body before putting on some dry clothes. I didn't entirely care that my hair would dry a salt encrusted mess, or that my eyes were most likely bloodshot.

My skin felt gross and dry, so I squirted a copious amount of lotion into my hands, spreading the citrus scented goop over my arms and legs, immediately softening my skin. There was nothing for me to do in my room, and I refused to sit alone and brood, mulling over my encounter with Edward.

I wandered down to the living room area to find something to keep my mind off of _him_. Maybe watch some TV or be with someone who wasn't Edward.

"Come help me, Bella!" a sweet, chipper voice called as soon as I entered the room. I smiled slightly and walked over to where Alice was standing over the stove in the kitchen. Cooking would be as good a distraction as any.

"What are you making?" I questioned, taking in the eclectic group of ingredients spread across the long counter.

"_We_," she stated, standing over the ingredients closest to the oven, "are making roasted mushroom and brie tartlets, wine poached salmon, and individual soufflés for dessert.

"Yum," I said, moistening my lips. "It sounds complicated."

"Nothing you, me, and Rosie can't handle," Alice said. As if on cue, Rosalie came into the kitchen wearing a floral, frilly apron. That, combined with her flaxen, blonde hair and perfect makeup, she looked like a chauvinistic man's dream come true.

The three of us made the tartlets first, because they took the longest to prepare, then Alice and I prepared the salmon, and the sauce that it would be seared in, while Rosalie put the ingredients for the soufflés together.

The sun was completely set when we finished the meal. It looked and smelled absolutely amazing. The men had gathered in the living room, and were sitting around, watching sports.

I shuddered, more images of _Stepford Wives_ coming to mind. This was getting a little freaky.

Or maybe this was just normality for them, and I was becoming irrational and paranoid.

I liked my Stepford theory better.

The food had finished cooking and with a call from Alice, the guys came into the kitchen to set up the table. At least we didn't have to do _all_ the work.

The table in the dining room was glass lined with bamboo, and covered in a gauzy, white table cloth. The table was set quickly, and we all sat around the delectable food I had helped prepare. The mini soufflés hadn't been put in the oven yet, since Rosalie wanted them to be fresh. All the ingredients were compiled, and they were waiting in the kitchen for Rosalie to pop them in the oven towards the end of dinner.

While we ate, my eyes periodically drifted towards Edward, who was sat at the head of the table on the end opposite to me. He conversed animatedly with his family, telling stories and jokes, and made eye contact with seemingly everyone but me. I ate in silence, taking small bites of the food I wasn't particularly enjoying. It barely had any taste to me. For the rest of dinner, I just pushed my food around my plate quietly.

"Bella?" I lifted my head to see Alice looking at me with wide eyes. I waited for her to say something more, but she just continued to look at me expectantly.

"I'm sorry, what?" I asked, figuring she had said something before.

"I asked if you were okay," she said softly. "You've been awfully quite, and you've barely touched your food."

"I'm just not very hungry," I told her truthfully. After the encounter earlier, being near Edward had made me lose my appetite. It was a pity too, I'm sure the food was delicious. "But I might have room for a soufflé."

"Oh, I forgot about those!" Rosalie announced, quickly departing to the kitchen.

The rest of dinner went by fairly smoothly. The soufflés came out perfect, and tasted as good as they looked. Appetite or no, I always had room for chocolate.

"Let's go skinny dipping!" Emmett suggested boisterously as we put away the dishes and cleaned up the mess. "I'm going skinny dipping."

"Please don't subject us all to that, Em," Edward laughed. "Rose might like the Sasquatch thing you've got going, but I don't want to see your big, hairy ass running around the house."

"You _love_ my big, hairy ass," Emmett taunted with a smirk.

"Let's just go swimming," Alice piped up. "Swimsuits recommended, but optional."

"Yes!" Emmett shouted, yanking his shirt up over his head. I watched in wide eyes as he stripped off his pants, too. Was he going to go skinny dipping? My eyes were glued to Emmett's departing form until I could no longer see him. I felt my face heat up after his little display.

Actually there was nothing _little_ about his display at all.

I chastised myself for checking out yet another one of Anthony's family members, but good lord, was Emmett ripped. If not a little too much so. I never really thought about what he would look like with his clothes off before, but I figured he maybe had a little pooch under there. But he was all muscle. I found myself wondering how he didn't absolutely crush Rosalie while they...

_Please stop_, I begged myself. I drew the line at imagining Anthony's aunt and uncle going at it.

I scurried to my room to find a dry bikini, and threw it on before running out the front door.

I caught sight of the gazebo where Edward had basically snubbed me earlier, and I felt my stomach drop a little. Edward, Anthony, and Emmett were already in the dark ocean, swimming and messing around. I joined them, making my way to where Anthony was standing. I was glad we were on better terms now. It made everything so much less awkward.

"No girls allowed!" Emmett bellowed, staring me down. He stalked towards me, and I was completely dwarfed in front of him.

Before I knew it, Emmett had me in the air, and I was flying. I screamed, flailing my limbs. My ass hit the water first, and the rest of my body followed. I came up gasping and soaking wet. "You are so dead!"

I dove under the water and pushed the backs of his knees in as hard as I could, effectively sending him below the water. I stood on his back for good measure, knowing he could get me off easily.

I looked around to see the highly amused faces of Anthony and Emmett.

Wait... Emmett?

The person I was standing on emerged, and I slid off of them.

I still wasn't entirely believing when I met Edward's surprised, soaked face.

"Sorry," I squeaked out, humiliated. The three guys started laughing and my cheeks grew warmer.

"Don't worry about it," Edward said, doing the unexpected. He rested his hand on my shoulder, and crouched down to where my head was barely above the water. "But I _will_ get you back."

I tried to hide the shiver that coursed through my body, but I'm pretty sure he noticed.

"Cold?" Anthony asked.

I nodded, lying to him with the gesture. Movement caught my attention, and I saw Rosalie coming out of the house and into the water, clad in a tiny, red bikini. Her hair was pulled up into a stylish bun so that none of her hair would touch the water.

"Where are Alice and Jasper?" Anthony asked his aunt.

"They're a little... preoccupied at the moment," Rosalie answered, trying to conceal a smirk.

"Jesus, those two!" I blurted out. I mean, did they _ever_ take a break?

"Tell me about it," Rosalie agreed, her plump lips set in a grim line. "Their room is right beside mine."

We splashed around in the dark water, laughing and swimming. I was surprised I wasn't more scared being in the water so late at night. Sharks, eels, jellyfish, the whole gang could have been right at my feet, and I'd have never been the wiser.

I did feel the sensation of something brushing against my leg every once in a while, giving me the willies. I knew, rationality, that it was probably just seaweed or a harmless fish or maybe even someone's feet, but it still put me on edge.

I was _positive_ I felt something slither across my feet, causing me to scream and shoot straight up. I clutched at the nearest person, hanging off of them so only minimal parts would be in the water.

I heard a chuckle, and found myself face to face with Edward. Of course it was _him_ who I jumped on.

"Something... my foot...," I babbled nonsensically. I was still grabbing at him, my arms wrapped around his neck and my entire body flush with his torso.

"I think you're safe," he said, putting me down. He backed up away from me, leaving me cold and a little embarrassed. I looked around to see that no one was paying us any mind. I glanced back at Edward, whose eyes were trained on me. He looked pained, and frankly kind of constipated. Maybe whatever slithered across my foot shimmied up into his ass, which aptly described how Edward was acting lately.

"I'm going back inside," he announced to no one in particular. He waded back to shore and disappeared into the house. My eyes followed him, trained on the tattoo that may or may not have made a guest appearance in a steamy dream or two.

I wanted to leave with him, but I knew that would arouse some sort of suspicion, so I stayed in the ocean until a good amount of time had passed.

I told Anthony I was leaving to go back inside, and he just nodded in return.

Alice and Jasper were coming in as soon as I was getting out. I looked around to see that there were no towels in sight, and I didn't want to get everything wet upon returning inside. I shook the water out of my hair before going inside to search for a towel. The fans were on and the house was freezing. My flesh constricted into goosebumps, and I tried to remember where the nearest towel closet was.

I wondered down the hall, where it was noticeably warmer, and heard a muffled sound that only grew louder the further down the hall I went. I heard the rushing of water and someone's voice.

_"Help!"_

I froze in place after hearing Edward's voice calling out for help. Holy shit! Was he hurt?

_"I need somebody!"_

I let out a breath in relief. He wasn't hurt, he was singing. And quite well, actually.

_"Help! Not just anybody. Help! You know, I need someone. He-e-elp!"_

I stood silently outside the bathroom door, listening to Edward belt out _Help_ by The Beatles_._ I bit my lip, picturing Edward in the shower, wet and naked, singing one of my favorite songs.

Not a bad visual.

I leaned against the wall outside of the bathroom, listening to Edward's alluring voice.

I almost had a heart attack when the bathroom door opened.

Edward was still singing, and I clearly hadn't noticed the water turn off.

He turned the corner, clad in only a towel, and came face to face with me.

I stared wide-eyed at him, unsure of what to do or say. I wasn't sure how completely obvious it was that I was listening in on him. Did he know how long I'd been standing there?

"I need a towel!" I blurted out at an inappropriately loud volume.

I was still frozen in place when he leaned past me to open the door to the linen closet. He reached up to grab a towel, handing it to me. I had mostly dried off, but I took it anyway.

"Thanks," I said, wrapping it tightly around my half naked body. "You've got an amazing voice."

"You heard me singing, I take it," he noted, looking a little embarrassed. "I suppose I get carried away sometimes."

"At least you've got the voice for it," I said, smiling. "When _I_ get carried away singing, I just get formal complaints."

"You do not," he challenged, thinking I was exaggerating.

"You obviously haven't heard me sing," I told him. "I used to sing in my apartment, and my landlord came and talked to me after my neighbors started complaining."

"That's terrible!" he said, unable to conceal his smile.

I merely shrugged in response. "I've come to accept my lack of talent."

"Come on, you've got to be good at something," Edward said, not understanding what I meant.

"Oh yeah, tons of stuff," I said with a smile. "Just not singing."

"Well, uh, I should probably go get dressed," Edward said with a nervous laugh. For a moment, I had forgotten that neither of us were dressed properly, or even at all, in his case. Which is quite a feat, because it takes a lot for me to _not_ notice that Edward is practically naked in front of me. Usually, when he's in any form of undress near me, it's all I can think about. I'm not proud, but it's true.

"Right," I said, biting my lip. I tried not to check out Edward full-on, but I was eye fucking him thoroughly in my peripheral. "I think I'm going to take a shower." _A cold one_.

Edward's nostrils flared, making me laugh softly. He winked before turning around and walking to his room at the end of his hall.

I stared at his retreating form, starting at his sculpted calves, pausing on his delicious ass, and ending on that goddamn tattoo nestled between his muscular shoulders.

When he looked back to find me staring at him, I quickly ripped open the bathroom door.

Right into my face.

"Ah!" I yelled, bringing my hands up to cover the injured area. It _really_ fucking hurt. Tears sprung to my eyes immediately.

I felt a warm hand on my shoulder and heard Edward asking me if I was okay. I nodded, standing upright.

"I'm fine," I assured him, trying to smile. My towel had dropped sometime during my incident, and I reached down to get it. I sprung back up, but my head came into contact with something hard.

"Fuck," Edward growled in a way that would have turned me on to no avail in any other situation.

Okay, it still turned me on a little.

Edward rubbed at his reddened jaw and I clutched the back of my head.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he said, the muscles in his jaw flexing. "You?"

I nodded, wondering how I had managed to injure the both of us.

"I was going to pick your towel up for you," he explained, as if he'd read my mind. "But you beat me to it."

I nodded in understanding. "I'm just going to take a shower now."

"Are you sure you're okay?" he asked, eyeing me suspiciously. "You hit your head pretty hard. Twice."

"I'm great," I assured him. The pain really was beginning to dull considerably.

"Bella, your face is starting to swell," Edward said, looking worried. "Come on, let's get you an ice pack."

"Fine," I grumbled, following behind him.

He was still naked except for his towel.

I tried relentlessly not to think of him without the towel, but of course that didn't work. He guided me to the couch before making his way to the kitchen to get the ice.

I sat, in only my ridiculously tiny bikini, on the couch, waiting for Edward to come back. He returned with a blue pack of ice, sitting next to me on the couch. He gently pressed the freezing pack into my face, causing me to wince, pulling my face away slightly.

"I know it's not pleasant," he said, holding the ice pack away momentarily, "but it'll help the swelling go down and prevent further bruising."

"Okay," I said with a sigh. He pressed the ice back into the injured side of my face once again.

"How's the back of your head?" he asked with a chuckle.

"Fine," I told him. "How's your jaw?"

"Not bad," he said, pressing his fingers to the spot. It was a little reddened, but I was fairly sure he'd live.

As for me, I might die of spontaneous combustion... if you catch my drift.

Scantily clad Edward in such close proximity to me was dangerous, not only to my bikini bottoms, but most likely the expensive couch I was sitting on, too.

Edward took the ice pack away and lifted his hand up to my face, stroking my cheek with the back of his hand. I leaned into his touch, having never stopped craving it. His hand trailed down my neck and over my collarbone, sweeping my damp hair over my shoulder. He slid his fingers over the back of my neck, holding me in place.

His head leaned forward towards mine, and his intentions were pretty clear.

He was going to kiss me.

His lips ghosted over my bruising cheekbone, making sure not to apply too much pressure. He then moved his lips to the corner of my eye, pressing them down harder. My eyes flickered shut as I relished in the feeling of his lips on my skin and nothing more.

Edward placed a final soft kiss on my eyebrow before pulling away. I opened my eyes and stared directly into his. He didn't break eye contact as he pressed the pack of ice over half of my face. I pursed my lips, suppressing a giggle. He looked so forlorn as he tended to my face, and it just made me want to laugh for some reason.

I cracked a smile, hoping it would catch on. Edward was sending me an assortment of mixed signals, and had been since we'd arrived, but I didn't want to see him look so broken. He returned my smile, making my heart beat just a little faster.

"_Dad?_"

Edward and I simultaneously turned our heads towards the front door, where Anthony stood, Emmett and Rosalie not far behind him.

"What's going on?" he asked, eyeing the both of us suspiciously.

"Bella got a little banged up," Edward said. I didn't know whether to laugh or cringe at his word choice. "I was just helping her out."

"Naked?" Anthony questioned askance.

"I had just come out of the shower when she hit her head," Edward explained coolly, while I sat beside him wide eyed and speechless.

"I'm all better," I blurted out stupidly. "I'm going to take my shower now. Thanks for the ice!"

With that, I darted down through the living room and down the halls until I reached the bathroom. My towel was conveniently on the floor outside the door. I bent down, increasing the dull throb in my head, and picked it up.

I slipped into the bathroom and hastily turned the water on. I stepped into the shower, cringing at the heat of the water. I turned down the hot water until the temperature was manageable.

A small smirk fell over my lips as I thought about Edward in this shower not ten minutes ago. I was mildly obsessed with him in any state of undress, and I wasn't sure it was healthy.

I took my sweet time in the shower, not wanting to get out and face the real world.

Namely Anthony.

I stood underneath the water, mulling over what had happened, and what would greet me once I stepped out of the shower.

Probably Anthony.

I turned off the water with a sigh and began to dry myself off. Once the majority of the excess water was absorbed from my hair, I wrapped the damp towel around my body and made my way to my room.

"Jesus Christ!" I gasped, holding my hand over my heart.

It was Anthony.

"What are you doing?" I asked him, my eyes widening.

"I came to ask you the same thing," he said nonchalantly.

"Well, I just came out of the shower," I told him, fully knowing that wasn't what he was asking. "I went swimming a couple of times today, so I felt a little grimy."

"Let me rephrase," he said, his tone cold and even. "What are you doing with my father?"

"Nothing," I said honestly.

"You're telling me there's nothing between the two of you?"

"Nothing at all," I assured him. There really was nothing going on between Edward and me. I had feelings for him, and for a little while my feelings might have been reciprocated, but there was nothing going on between us. And there never would be.

"Somehow," he said, standing up fully, "I just don't believe you. Either of you."

"Whatever," I snapped, getting annoyed. I might as well have been cheating, if this is how Anthony was acting. "I've never known you to be this insecure. It's ridiculous."

After he left and the door clicked in place, something else clicked.

_Either of you_.

That's what Anthony said. _Either_ of you.

Had he talked to Edward about this, too?

I concluded that Edward had told him basically the same thing I had; that there was nothing between us.

Nothing at all.

I didn't know how many times I'd have to tell myself that before it would finally sink in.

I let my towel fall onto the floor and put on some comfortable clothes before braiding my hair. My damp braid hung over my shoulder, heavy and wet.

As I reached for my book, a knock sounded on my door.

"Come in," I called, wondering who it was.

I closed my eyes briefly, faintly hoping it was Edward about to open the door.

"Hi," said Alice as she slipped into my room.

"Hey," I said, smiling genuinely. I was pretty sure I had made a true friend in Alice, and I was glad. I quite liked her. "What's up?"

"Oh, nothing," she said, looking at her feet. "I just thought I'd stop by. You know, to talk."

"About what?" I asked, folding my legs beneath me on the bed.

Alice sprang onto my bed, sitting cross legged before me. "You."

"Okay," I said, a little taken aback by her bluntness. "What about me?"

Alice looked pensive for a moment, as if figuring something out. "Anthony's not really doing it for you, is he?"

I sat before her, shell shocked. What the hell was I supposed to say tot that?

"I just don't think your feeling match his," she concluded. "Am I wrong?"

I opened my mouth to answer her before closing it again. I liked Alice, but this was none of her business. I also didn't want to foolishly put my trust in anyone and regret it later.

"I get your hesitance to tell me anything," Alice said, noticing my sudden reluctance to speak. "But I just felt like you needed someone to talk to, and I figured I was probably the best person here to do so with. I mean, I'm not related to him, unlike everyone else here. Plus, I'm your age."

She had a point. I had also recently come to find out that Alice was only a little less than a year older than me. Up until then, I thought she was more Rosalie's age, around twenty-five. I guess it would be nice to vocalize my situation, so I decided to give it a shot.

"You're right," I told her, pursing my lips. "I don't think I'm being fair to Anthony."

"I'm not here to talk about him," Alice clarified. "Forget about what's fair and right to him for a moment, and think about how _you_ feel."

How _I_ felt? Aside from feeling like scum... I guess I felt a little tied down to Anthony. Restricted. So I told her that.

"Why are you still with him? If you don't mind me asking," she said softly.

"It's complicated," I told her, giving her the most overused, bullshit line there was, but not intentionally. It really _was_ complicated. "I like being with him, and I don't think I'm ready to let him go."

"I understand," Alice said, nodding.

"I'm being selfish, aren't I?" I asked, fully knowing the answer.

"I don't think so," she said, shaking her head. "I think you need to prioritize some things and get it all figured out before you make a decision. It's not selfish, Bella. Not if you don't know what you want."

"Thanks," I told her with a smile. It really was nice to have someone to talk to about all this. It helped.

"I have one more highly intrusive question," she told me with a sheepish look on her face. "Do you have feelings for Edward?"

**So what do you think Bella's answer is going to be? Will she open up to Alice? Any thoughts/theories on Edward's behavior?**

**I'm so sorry for the delay on this chapter. I've had a lot going on this month, and writing hasn't been very easy for me lately. I've already started on the next chapter, and I'm actually pretty excited about it. It might even be out before August! :)**

**Also, I've finally made a Twitter. I'll be posting links, teasers, and other things relevant to this story, so if you want to check it out, I'm on there as fernnffn.**


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